#i still dig BioShock this is just something that makes me go :/ when I remember

[we-are-not-afraid-92]

not me in the middle of my break remembering how dirty they did my boy sander cohen in burial at sea

[queensdivas]

Wildest Notes Chapter 4

So there’s about three reasons why this chapter took a little long to come out! But they’re good reasons of course because I like to make sure things are somewhat perfect! 

First! Mostly because I’ve been busy with Grigor and trying to work on such a historical fic and y’all know I throw myself into my fics. 

Second. I got in touch with a certain bad ass artist by the name of @punky-peach​ who drew that beautiful picture below for Cora and Gard. Oh yes. It’s absolutely beautiful and I might have cried when I received it ten minutes ago. It’s so fantastic that I just can’t stop looking at it and I know y’all can’t either! Especially after this chapter.  

Third. I got distracted. And I got into bioshock for a while (I’m still binge playing it over and over. But fear not! I’m back and 

Okay here we go! 

Y’all ready!!

Next Chapter

Previous Chapter. 

Masterlist 

My fingers softly began rubbing my eyes as we finished the last set of the night. Sometimes I forget that playing the piano day after day would hurt my eyes. I hate that sometimes I forget that I’m near sighted. Should probably take a day off because I’ve been doing this nonstop since I moved here. Luckily I’m not clumsy with them and have never broken a pair in my life! Which is saying something about myself. 

Closing the lid to the piano as the club was beginning to clear out of everyone excluding the waitresses, bar tenders, and us musicians. I began gathering all my music sheets together as I watched everyone go into their own little social pods. Not that I don’t wanna become social with any other them. But a first impression of them flocking towards me in all directions to screw me wasn’t exactly a warm welcome. 

Once my music was all put together. I knocked off my heels to switch over to my Jesus slippers so I could walk home comfortable. Do you think I walk from my house to the city in heels? I don’t even like being in some sort of heels in the first place. My preference is my Jesus slippers or my bare feet. I mostly garden in my bare feet so it’s safe to say that I really hate shoes. 

Kobi the bassest and Chandler who played first chair trombone approached me as I placed my feet into my Jesus sandals. Kobi was rubbing the back of his neck as I waited for them to speak to me because obviously he was going to say something. 

“Chandler and I were wanting to apologize for what happened when you first arrived here. Kind of got us all excited for a new member and we acted like wild dogs. I’m sorry.” Wait what? An apology? Kobi smacked Chandler's chest as he shot up from the ground. 

“Yes Cora. We’re sorry..” 

“It’s quite alright. Thank you for the apology.” 

“Listen why not have a drink with us?” Chandler offered as I took a step off the stage with all my belongings. 

“I don’t drink.”

“Then water. C’mon you have to socialize with us eventually and running off back to your house isn’t an option.” Kobi mentioned that both of them walked over to the bar along with the workers and other musicians. I mean a sprite does sound delicious and I could use the energy walking home. 

I sat down on the bar stool as the tender was mixing all sorts of drinks for everyone. He stood in front of me and waited for me to give him some sort of answer. I get the feeling their eyes are shooting bullets at me for not drinking liquor. Look I know being a jazz musician you’re supposed to smoke and have a thing of Jack Daniels by your stand in order to fit the profile. But I’d rather have a really bubbly sprite and some grapes and we’re sitting. 

“Just a sprite please.” I told him as he filled a tiny little glass of sprite for me. 

“You work at a nightclub and you drink a sprite?” Chandler commented as I took a sip. 

“I told you two I don’t drink.” It’s like talking to a brick wall. Like I said I will not socialize with these people and just come to work. 

“Heys guys great news!” Theo jumped down from the stage and sashed himself over towards us. 

“We got ourselves a new lead female singer by the name of Kyia Mair. Just graduated from Oberlin Conservatory of Music in Ohio. She said she was looking for a full time gig and bam! We got one!” HE clapped as he sat down on one of the stools. 

“A round for everyone! Make it an Irish car bomb for everyone!” Theo pulled out his cash as everyone cheered as for free alcohol...for me I was slowly sipping sprite from my glass. I should’ve mentioned that I could’ve also sang..though it’s not excellent like Gaga or even Billie Holiday. But it’s decent. 

The bartender placed the shot in front of me as my sipping through the straw began to go faster as I was trying to avoid the car bomb or whatever it was called in front of me. No..no I don’t drink. Drinking leads to drugs...drugs lead..lead...

“A shot isn’t going to kill you Cora. You gotta live a little.” Theo moved the shot in front of me as I kept sucking up more and more sprite till the glass was empty. My throat closed as I looked away from the shot. Time for me to head home and read some sort of book. Digging into my purse then my wallet to find some sort of cash. 

“Tell ya what. Here’s twenty dollars on me for whatever you want and you guys never speak to me again that isn’t business related. Now if you’ll excuse me I’d like to go home. Goodnight everyone.” Telling them as they slapped the money on the bar and began my walk home. 

Wrapping my arms around myself to place my binger down onto the ground to feel the warmth of the night rest on top of me. Taking in a deep breath as I dove into the inner layers of my confused train wreck of a mind. It felt like I was pushing the door shut of my past self trying to keep those memories shut. 

Think of something nice Cora c’mon! 

“I’m..I’m sorry. I.. I generally don’t hang out with civilians this much.” Civilians? DO I look like I’m in the army? Do I need to salute him or something? 

Why is it that this tightly wound mailman by the name of Gardner is prancing around in my mind? Is this what a crush feels like? Heck I’ve never had my first kiss in my life with anyone! I’ve lived quite the solitude life for obvious reasons..and no one has ever had that kind of talk with me. 

Stopping along the river as my upper body leaned over the railing. Surprisingly a warm gust of wind entwined itself around me as I just stared down into the dark water. The lights from the city began dancing upon the top of the river. 

Mama Seymour wasn’t into the relationships because she was always busy with myself and my brothers and sisters. Mr. Lister..er Dad..may he rest in peace. He was just there for me in the end and never got around to this conversation. So I’ve got no idea what on earth I’m doing. Normally my ass would be running from this situation and just diving into a different situation. But..

I..I wanna dive..

This whack uptight mailman…

“Gard? What are you going?”

“I’m sorry. I heard you playing and I wanted to stay till the end.” 

Someone tell me how the heck this is supposed to work? No mailman would just casually stay and let himself come inside the house. Not to mention he let me dry his socks after walking around in the rain. It’s not love...it’s just my heart rapidly beating out of my ribbed cages and spewing out all over the sidewalk!  My right hand rested over my heart as I stood up standing tall.

Just keep calm..if you see him tomorrow just be nice and not do anything.. 

Walking back to the house to see that Angus was sitting in front of the front door sleeping soundly as I stood in front of the gate. Opening the gate woke him up and trot his way over to me. Sniffing my feet, licking my palm, and then walking back towards the door. For some unknown reason Angus loves to sit outside or sleep when I’m gone for work. 

Sitting down on the porch steps as Angus sat up next to me then began licking my face, yet stopping when he had some of my makeup in his mouth. My nails softly scratched the top of his head as he laid back down next to me with his head resting on my thigh. Time to let my hair down, literally. Pulling apart the large black bow I had in my hair that was keeping at least some of it up to let my grande cluster mess known as my hair. 

“C’mon Angus. Time for bed.” Kissing his forehead as we both got off the ground to walk inside and get ready for bed.  

*Gards P.O.V.*

Wasn’t supposed to be 90 degrees today. Stupid weather! Looking up to place the mail in the box I noticed that I was right around the corner from Cora. I imagine she’s out in her garden planting or digging until it gets too hot. 

Turning the corner then down the hill as I kept my eyes on what I could see but sadly trees we’re covering my view. Just keep going..wait. What should I say to her? Hey? Is it hot outside or what? Too cheesy? I’ll just be quiet, drop off her mail then moving on. 

Is..is that Margaritaville? I don’t know much about music but I know Margaritaville whenever I hear it. I remember Dad and I would be on the boat washing it down and whenever this song would turn on, he would just go berserk. Cause ya know, it’s a Dad song.  

“Wastin' away again in Margaritaville..Searchin' for my lost shaker of salt..Some people claim that there's a woman to blame..Now I think, hell, it could be my fault..” I could hear her singing as I got closer to the gate. 

When I made it to her white gate. My head looked up. I saw that she was sitting in the front yard sitting in a beach chair. Her feet were in a kids plastic pool as Angus came around the corner to then step into the kids pool and watch me. 

“GARD!” Cora cheered as she stood up to then stand in her pool. Opening the gate as I approached her as she kept herself in the pool. 

“Want a drink? It’s kool aid.” She held out her glass as I shook my head. 

“How’s the route on this stupidly hot day?” I shrugged as she offered me her seat. I sat down as she went around back to probably grab another chair. Placing my mail bag next to my chair as I watched Angus in the pool. He’s literally just laying down in the water with only his head laying on the rim.  Coming back as she had one of those really colorful beach chairs. Opening it up then sticking her feet back into the pool as Angus was laying down in it. 

“Gard relax for a little bit. It’s 90 degrees and there’s no way you’re not boiling alive.” Fair enough. 

“While you get comfy. I think I got some sunglasses for ya.” Getting up again to go into her house. I took off my shoes then socks to stick my feet into the ice cold pool. I let out a very large sigh as my entire body relaxed. I should get a kids pool for Calvin and I because this is so relaxing. 

She came back out with a glass of water and a pair of sunglasses. Smiling as I took them from her hands as she climbed back down into her seat then laying out in the sun. 

“Thank you.” Telling her as I placed the sunglasses on my face then taking a sip of the cold water. 

“No problemo Gard.” She smiled as she bent forward to splash some water on Angus who tried to eat the water she splashed him with. She looked so beautiful with the sun shining down on top of her. Coras skin was shining and her smile..it feels so genuine and contagious. Like if you’re not smiling you’re out of place. Not to mention she’s just so bubbly that..it’s a good feeling when I’m around her. 

Blinking a few times as Angus got up from the pool to then shake himself as all the water splashed over Cora and I! If a dog could smirk I think Angus would. We both watched as he opened the screen door to then walk inside. What a dog. 

“Sorry that my dog just gave you a shower.” She took off her glasses to whip off the water. 

“I’m assuming that you taught him how to do that?” Asking her as she nodded. She put her glasses back on her face to look at me. 

“Spoiled loveable child.” She shook her head as she went down to take a sip of her kool aid. I reached down for water to start drinking it. 

“Glad you’re finally relaxing. Though it would never happen to Gard. You 're more wounded than a screw itself.” I’ve always had my own way of doing things and enjoyed my very..tight.. Schedule..But here Cora comes to basically destroy that schedule..and I’m kind of okay with it...

“Not that there’s anything wrong with that of course. I mean it’s great that you have such a tight schedule and you like to do things your way. But sometimes you just gotta take a step back and breath a little. Also have your feet chillin 'in a kiddie pool while you get a sun tan and take a break from the job.” I will say though we look a little silly sitting in her front yard. But I imagine her backyard is covered head to toe in veggies and flowers. 

“If you keep working and not taking a second, you’re gonna watch your life go by without ya. Sorry..didn’t mean to sound so preachy there holy crap.” She laughed at herself as I couldn’t stop looking at her. Why does she care so much? I know that about 90% of the people I deliver mail to don’t even know me. Trudy is the only one I talk to..and then she comes into play...and..

I..I want her to see the boat. I mean. She’s shown me her entire home and she’s yet to see mine. Wouldn’t you think she’d like to see mine? I know she’s asked but..I didn’t know what she would do if I told her I lived in a boat. 

What do I say to her? Hey why don’t you come see my boat? Wanna see my boat? How do I make myself sound extremely creepy towards her? Her beautiful copper hair that was just all over the place shined beautifully. Cora’s smile kept making my heart skip a few beats as her fingers were messing with the book. I want her to come on my route so I can show her the boat. Don’t most women love boats? 

“Wanna see my home?” Blurting out as she turned towards me then rose up in her chair. 

“Sure. Let me get my keys.” She looked so adorable. A big Hawaiian shirt that had a tank top underneath, a cute pair of white shorts then her sandals. She walked inside her house as I finished chugging the water for the walk home. 

“How long have you been a mailman?” She asked as she was walking backwards in front of me with her hair flapping with each step. 

“Since I was eighteen. I was even a designated note passer for these two kids in school, kind of appropriate.” She looked so..pretty. Her hair shined, she walked with such a lovely step. As if she was almost skipping. How does someone be this happy all the time?

I found out that she’d been playing the piano since she was a kid. Umm she can make a mean lamb roast, and sells vegetables at farmers markets and even tries to get a stand at county and or State Fairs. I had no idea she was so resourceful. Is it weird that I kind of want her to make dinner for me so I can try this great lamb roast. 

“It has a crap ton of garlic but don’t worry it works extremely well together.” She was so passionate about her cooking and bubbly. Most women I know who are my age who can’t even cook spaghetti. 

“What side dish?” 

“Marinated white beans. You’ll have to come over for dinner sometime and you’ll be leaving ten pounds heavier!” She laughed as we turned down my street. Oh boy. How is she going to react that I live in my boat instead of inside with Calvin. 

“Here we are.” Telling her as she began walking in the driveway. 

“Umm Cora.” I stopped right next to the ladder that led me inside my home. She took off her glasses, rubbing her eyes then back at me. I began walking towards the ladder to climb in. 

“The nameless grace.” She pointed out as I halted. 

“Huh.” Turning around as she had her arms crossed. 

“You do know boats are meant to have names right? There was this one boat that was always docked and it’s name was Floppy Wenis!” I mean I’ve heard of some weird one in my books when I’m trying to sleep. I think there was one called Buoyoncé and another called The Cod Mile. 

I climbed up into the sailboat as she followed right behind me. Glad I got the place cleaned up before going to bed last night. Not that it was dirty or had underwear all over the place. Crouching down into the sailboat to stand straight up as she poked her head in. 

“Cute. I love what you’ve done with the place.” Cora giggled as she held out her hand so she wouldn’t fall flat on her face. Helping her inside as she kept a hold of my hand. They were a little cold but extremely soft to the touch. Wait..I’m still holding them! 

“I’m sorry!” Walking over to the radio as I turned it on for some soft acoustic song to start playing. 

“I sit there. You can sit anywhere else.” Telling her as I tossed my bag on the other side of the booth table. I placed the sunglasses she’d given me on the table right where I usually sit. 

“Gard this is so homey. Really love what you’ve done with the sailboat. Also the ferns that hang off the railings.” She commented as it made me smile. Cora looked around to then sit down across from me on the bench. 

“Thank you.” Molding my fingers together as I made my thumbs started going in small circles.

“So do you have a thing for not sleeping in houses? Ready for some sort of flash flood coming here and all of us vanishing overnight?” Very funny. 

“I’ve liked boats. SO why not live in one.” Shrugging as she raised her eyebrow right at me. Yeah figured she wouldn’t accept that excuse.  

“Why not live with Calvin then? I mean I love my sunflowers but you don’t see me sleeping in the middle of my garden.” Fair point. She put her legs up close to her chest waiting for some kind of response from me. 

“I came from school one day and my parents were gone. The house was empty. The only thing they left behind was this boat. So I moved it to Calvins driveway. His parents took me in.” I somehow get this feeling she can sort of relate. I’m not sad about it anymore and have moved on. But...sometimes I keep thinking they’ll come back for the boat even after all these years just to say hi. A pipe dream and realistically impossible. But wouldn’t it be nice. Her face that was once filled with bubbles just turned into concern and somewhat saddened. I didn’t mean to make her feel sad..just wanted to be honest. 

“Any luck trying to find them?” Her voice cracked a little as she stared directly at me. 

“What would I say?” 

“Something I would Gard. Why? Why have me if you wanted to run?” Shaking her head at her own comment as she looked at the wall then back at me. 

“If we’re being open with one another. I sadly don’t remember my mother at all. Either she died of childbirth or just left right after I was born. Father was a..an extreme druggie who ended up..ah doesn’t matter. Oh what do we have here.” She grabbed one of my binders of my stamp collections to start going through them. I noticed on her ankle looked like some kind of old scar around the ankle. Probably none of my business. 

“I love this one so far. Ya know I wasn’t going to make the assumption that you collected stamps due to the fact you were a mailman. But I gotta ask. Why stamps?” Nothing is more cliche than a mailman collection stamp. Cora’s eyes looked so passionate while she skimmed through all my stamps.

“It’s just this endless potential that sits within these little tiny squares. Kind of wonder where they could’ve gone sometimes when I look at them. Always wondered what people would’ve said in these letters, though no one writes letters anymore. But if they did, they need one of those.” I’ve...I’ve never had the chance to fully tell someone about my stamps before. I mean besides Calvin and my friends down at the office when we have our meetings. But she seems so interested in them and letting me vent about them. 

“I’m going to assume you’ve got a favorite?” My eyes drifted over to The Duke as I motioned her to come over and look. She got off the bench to squat a few inches next to me. So close I could see deep into those sparkling dark blue pools. 

“So why is the shirtless man so special?” 

“That my dear friend is The Duke, King of the Longboard. You have your Elvis china and I have my stamps, sort of the Elvis of my collection.”

“Why? What’s so special about Mr. Duke?” 

“It’s a misprint.” 

“Wait what?” She giggled to take another look at the stamp. 

“It’s a misprint. It’s the only one in the world. His longboard is upside. See?” She nodded as our heads were almost butting into each other. 

“Well..son of a biscuit. What a misprint.” My throat unexpectedly dried up quicker than I expected as we just kept smiling at each other. 

Slowly moving towards each other as our lips finally made contact. Her beautiful lips sent shivers up and down my body. I’m too afraid to touch her or even do anything..last girl I kissed was a bet in High School..I could feel my face turning dark red as I cupped her face in my hands. 

Cora abruptly backed away from against the wall with her finger types on her lips. Gulping as her eyes were widened. She was going to say something but kept falling short of words. 

“I’m..I’m sorry..I..” Spinning around to dash out of the boat and almost tripping trying to get out. 

“Wait Cora!” I was about to sprint out towards her but she must’ve knocked over the sunglasses because they made a loud cracking sound in my feet. 

No...no..I didn’t ruin it did I!? Looking at the time as I realized that it was already after four...I’ll keep my bag for the night then when I do my route tomorrow I’ll just deliver whatever else I didn’t get the chance to deliver. 

Should probably go inside and try to act normal. Although I imagine Calvin will be having a field day because today is his day off. Climbing out of the boat then down the ladder as I tried to keep myself panicking in front of Calvin. He’s going to go on and on about approaching her and how to get her into bed. Not exactly what I’m going for. 

I made it through the front door then into the kitchen where Calvin already had dinner ready. And now I just realized that I’m extremely late for dinner. This should be absolutely fun to deal with. 

“Sorry I’m late Cal.” Sitting down at the dining room table but he didn’t turn around to say anything to me. But only letting out a big sigh. 

“Cal!” He smacked the eggplant on the plate as he was about to say something. 

“My eggplant parmesan is congealing.” I’m not quite sure if I’m even in the mood for eggplant. Vietnamese or Greek just sounds better than eggplant. 

“I had to work late.” 

“Am I living in a house of lies! You come through that door everyday at 5:29 pm on the dot for the past six years, and who was that guy with the 80s hair band running from your boat?” She’s not in a hair band? I mean obviously I knew he would catch me but she’s not even a man, Cora just has beautiful humongous hair. Which I imagine is super soft. 

“It was a woman.” Never thought I would have to say that. 

“My man! She smokes your hogan?” 

“I don’t think so and what does that even mean?” What does smoking your hogan your mean? Like..a..I don’t even wanna think about it. 

“Where did you meet her?” 

“Work.” 

“Is she a mailman?” She’s far too beautiful to be a carrier. 

“Carrier and no she’s a customer. Her name is Cora.” 

“Whoa whoa whoa. Is she an old lady?” 

“No.” 

“Lady of the night?” 

“No!” 

“Housewife?” 

“Single and no. She lives by herself.” 

“Single, her own home and on the route nice! So okay theres lots of ingredients here for a very erotic role-play situation.”

“You gonna see her again?” 

“Probably tomorrow.” 

“You nervous?” Shaking my head as Cal saw right through it.  

“You must not like her if you’re not nervous.” 

“I’m a little nervous.” More like shaking in my own shoes from the fact that I don’t wanna mess this up. 

“All right okay lets get a good solid plan together. This is you and this is her.” He was messing with the table mats. 

“No no I don’t wanna plan this.” Last time Cal had one of his plans he ended up spilling the nacho cheese all over the girls jeans. Yeah never letting him plan anything dealing with my love life. 

“Well you’re gonna need a plan or you’re just gonna get passed over like celery at the salad bar.” 

“I just wanna let it happen.” 

“Alright if that’s your play.” He began reading through his magazine of Martha Stewart recipes and home diy. 

I really don’t wanna mess this up..she’s absolutely fantastic..just the thought of her..oh boy what have I gotten myself into now. 

Taglist

@bonafiderocketqueen​ @filmslutt​ @johndeaconshands​ @amethyst-serenade​ @soy-guey​ @jd-johndeacon-or-jackdaniels​ @queen-turtle-boiii​ @mercury-wife​ @deck-heart​ @deakydeacs @mirkwoodshewolf​ @supersonicfreddie​ @yourlocalmusicalprostitute​ @dancingcoolcat​ @bitchyleek​ @belladonichaaze​ @mrsmazzello​

[triumphorce]

under umbras of bundles  of stars,

canopies of leaves & branches that shatter-scatter sky image held indirect

as a gleam in eyes

as conscious lay in fabricated gardens watching memories, & desires in dream form

from across highway covered by

blue-white, 

yellow,

& orange lights

sound of tires, mufflers, sirens, 

amidst a higher sense 

attuned to

muffled far cries muffled while crossing empty lands

filled with chilling wind howls, stealing hope, 

which

kickstarts the power on survival mode..

ups& downs 

drown the cries further,

that

war, warn, or cheer..

or just sing..

maybe

a hymn made by souls for souls under same umbra to set free to lead to wonder & beauty beyond the surface of senses directly to free to seek love loss between me and me

buried beneath  road of longest journey to reach

turn feet all around

all about a world I have no idea about

just mad ideas about Kept in journals i turn over

to all but from in front of views not yet exploited by value of which is, views are power,  & are the will in word- to-page transaction

self diminished to substantiate

entries from entrails, not shown to be conquered

win or lose is how I never saw things.

win or win, only optionss, only progress..

yet..,always over complicating;

marathon sprints from start to finish

as I choose, If i choose, to continue to choose to overlook slopes in existence, where hides I, in ruins, digging for recognition

contribute to a mind overloading with what I know I owe society, &me,

burden of see-through beast, I see illusions of future thru,mistaken as truth, play victim, get stressed or believe I'm down on luck ,in dumps of depression and slum of beliefs,

 in a slump with headphones on temple and music up, reminisce about the golden olden, me and broseph, SSB, PSO, kanto, johto, cartoon cartoons, many one saturday morning’s, plenty cinnamon toast, fruity pebbles, so many card games at Books-a-million

but when I open eyes from trance

I'm forever face to face with today is today

not then not later...

just

 changes who changed how I changed regret and anger to compensate for blaming everybody but me

now I stare afraid at dilemmas mass effect decisions

 daily in-and-out-terventions

to keep from falling back into resentment.. spite blinding shelves of subconscious-self- disappointed perpetuating judgment of others binding progression, tying tongue, boiling blood because old habits die hard and I continue fucking up, up raging rapids w/o a paddle,   almost 3 decades of failing infinite (according to projections) feel I missed and am missing out on so much, so much world, so many words coiled inside, waiting to explode,

all the time, just like everybody.. everything mind sets sights on turns to target issue     how unfortunate for aforementioned coordinates, for anyone close enough for me to put in poems' , important enough to torment conscious over, used to be everybody, used to be nobody, used to be just some people, now its just me and i dont know him

   attempts to speak, to learn again, to teach me about me       to learn to teach                     myself, to set example for ambition directed toward a better version, better verses, better reimbursement of time given tryna be an extrovert, free from bitter, free from bitch asses, set internal standards to never  get fucked with again, fuck you, fuck him, fuck her, i only fucks with a journal & question  everyone,  everything, every word, every whisper, shit ima tell my children every day, breakfast lunch dinner,  do your best and fuck the rest, get it, get lit off enlightenment, fuck rest, save roosting for death, dont look at me, looknat the sky, seize the day in everyway brain permits, dont reach for others' and if anyone tries to take yours, that means they dont fundamentally respect life, so always permeate passion, ignore distractions keeping you from creating, test limits, test intentions, challenge imperfections with wisdom, know that perfect is just cosmetics, but i remain quiet.. remain tied up being alone, wondering..           whether I'm right to do any god damn thing        'cause if I don't do it right..       was I right to think I could, wrong to think I understood

am i wrong not to try?

what of what's sacrificed ?

how do i keep count

how did I end up here       in standby...

standing squeamish & deer eyed in light of opportunities rising in horizon of night skies, to step in to obtain warmth, maintain from days before, to do something, do the one thing, but when will I be ready will eyes be ready to comprehend right or wrong

only me, here. only us, on planet.

only who's responsible? how is who is affected by, afflicted by? when is too late? when is just right, always too soon to tell and.. if I don't do it now, then why expect change..

why, why, why

'cause I expect anything at all

anger toward unmanned vehicles imminent to collide with mine

driven mad up eighty-five degree angled walls during rush hour, sun beaming heat into ride, where i travel on path, thru battlefield of past where fallen intentions decompose to ignorance and wisdom sprouts in the mean time.. I'm in between times, feelin down, down down down down by the way

a trail thru fears past dead ends, rotting trees, looks like fallout hit

a past I try an' forget..

but remember out of reluctance 

to accidentally revisit regret,

stand next to biggest fears,  see if facing them uproots soul

rolls ideas in head, non-stop

like trolls troll under bridges 

to which billy goat gruff temper charges like crono's katana on zenan crossing,

lodes of odes to oaths, lightning loaded, aimed at negative minded sapiens bioshocks via rhythm and syntax, cryo cascades of ideas, locked away in moleskine or computer files to put to rest the rest of an inside in arrest to judgment, in side quest of public playthrough, i feel im on public display, static complaining in front of pretty much strangers   modes of awareness to mental problems i exploit to people who might not think im crazy, who might like what i write, might like to write about the same thing, might see giants in those same nodes i stand near, i hear crisp crackles filling an awkward air as i stare at words on sheets that i might tear, might let collect dust, or share prolly might be quiet, only sound is poetic drafts that fill in under open windows, I open slowly, cool rush, goosebumps, awake aware always, even when mind is a crinkled, crumbled candy wrapper still just construct wrinkles in time via           hairs stand, ovation, and encores to

     helping to cross over doubts, screams of slander, stop it all, right now, shed truth in another light, fed through veins like pen's ink to go over and correct vision of pinheads vane turnin art, free thought to cash and competition, trade purpose blow for blow with obstacles in the name of the next step, over opponents, trade nervous for nerves robust to withstand standing up to stretch and spread chest to stand up for work where time invested is braided circulation    goin in circles,        time wasted pet peeve number 1

    a nowhere never felt before        but something seems familiar.. overlooked,   under yards, under pressure of bone leverage, give life a lift thru cracks of a collapsing effort stretched behind chest and ribs

a heart glows in

hot coal hues hearth warmth under carbon sheets

till blood boils till steam coils from pores to kill the cold along roads

sun or none

no light above, isn't lack of.. 

(look inside)

----

harsh heat of reality hot enough to feel cold

make me go ghost in dark times..

friction strong enough to spark moist..

continue until i sear nerves disembody fromm pain till im felt by meta-form of others

heartfelt arcs between soul and soul-mind 2 mind

light releases thru iris folds spectacle in spectacles----

spectrum wheel of emotions spins &spins to  understand self an urge that intensifies the more  i live life as well as I can Improve every day, no excuse, don't ignore the corners, get behind my ears,every nook and cranny in creative muse-um, uhm, duh, raised on books, nintendo, animation,& wishbone, outside, only myself as playdate, use every square inch as play-scape under every hair in head, a mind uses face and body as way to create 4 fourever& vice versa to escape who ever & know I can do whenever, wherever

wherever i go, a voice in mind goes

that keeps on talkin , keeps me talkin tellin me I've talk--, wrote enough hoped enough to last a lifetime, but that's not enough

and I still got a lifetime

to either solidify or fuck it up

gradually let go of 

to concentrate on life's finest moments i build to build form in appreciation, saying get up, enjoy the sun rays breaching clouds just before dawn; gett off yo butt and do what you know what you taught you to do when you were at multiple low points and you promised you, you'd never fall to end, even if you fall again, again, and again, never stall in the middle of  takeoff stop in middle of road, cant press play if you lost remote, might as well get up and do it, crawl, run or walk away when the times calls to brawl dark-inner energy only honorable mentions defend health during dishonorable discharge of nega, into rivers, into blue sky.. bordered by white clouds and linear silver

a safe place, work space, desk clerk sifting day to day thru file cabinets memories in memos in notebook; written relativity explaining how I see, what I think say what i want like im eight, glad i spent so much time with words and space-bars,   to escape judgment, hatred,

anxious surrounded by bad vibes

above an Earth, below expectations; over a self under surveillance by approval from inside, crazy dimensions, On the fence between people and myself I close eyes, ride waves of nostalgia once more..

see plenty light to traverse pathways, walk fer hours, walk like back in younger days, playin, runnin, completely captivated immersed in games played, tv, roller blades, monopoly, scary stories, trampolines

&10thousand songs later, 10million thoughts later, here I am doing what I made me to.

can't wait for the next chance

supplied energy through lines to hidden gracelands.

[theheavymetalmama]

I’m going to regret this...

Because old memes die hard...

Oh, I’m going to get some riveting emails for this, aren’t I?

I realize this is a volatile subject and that no shortage of people would sooner dunk their heads in a giant anthill before bringing this up in any forum or discussion. And for once, I agree. This is something I really don’t want to talk about, as I’ve been down this particular rabbit hole before and all I got was nothing but grief, with some people still butthurt at me and still give me rations of shit to this day because I had the audacity to suggest that if AAA developers so desperately crave an audience expansion like they always bang on about then maybe they should reach out to audiences besides young straight white men and small boys and that women and girls~as in one half of the world’s whole fucking population~would be a good place to start. Seriously guys (you know who you are,) it’s been one third of a decade since then. Cry a river, build a bridge, and get over it!

Anyway, like I said, I’d much rather not talk about this because no matter what, I’m going to get all forms of shit and glue-huffing guff blasted at me from both ends. In one corner it’s the immovable objects that fight tooth and nail to keep gaming in one specific way and rail against any and all forms of change and innovation while screeching “SJW pandering” at any game where the main character doesn’t look like Nathan Drake or one of his eight billion derivatives and then wonder why gaming is still dismissed as a childish waste of time, and in the other corner it’s the red-pill swallowing, fedora tipping Star Wars haters who branded a movie where Tom Hardy walks into the mist with nothing but a knife and a small bag of homemade explosives against a tank boiling over with gun-toting lunatics and emerged unscathed as “feminist propaganda.” No, fucking really, that actually happened.

Basically what I’m saying is that I really don’t want to do this because all in all it’s a headache I really don’t fucking need right now....but this needs to be said all the same.

So lately there’s been a very loud demand to keep politics and entertainment separate. Everything from movies to comic books and everything in between. Those are discussions in and of themselves, so let’s stick with video-games for the moment. On one hand, I can certainly see where these people are coming from. They say that brevity is the soul of wit, and if that is indeed the case then for all its’ pros the gaming industry employs some of the most witless motherfuckers in entertainment when it comes to writing. Let’s face it, even the good writers in gaming aren’t exactly good at subtlety. However, the fish starts to stink pretty fast once this falls under scrutiny. Let me make one thing perfectly clear.

You can’t remove politics from video games.

No, you can’t. And before you try and argue that video games never had politics before, with the possible exception of Pong and a few Atari games you’re wrong. Politics, or more to the point political views and ideologies, have been part of all forms of media since the dawn of media and entertainment itself and video-games are no exception. You can’t remove politics from games anymore than you can remove the heart from the human body and expect it to still function. Now you can argue how on the nose or how politics and ideals are presented, and you certainly don’t have to agree with them, but they can’t be removed. In fact, some of the best games, movies, comics, books, and whatever are heavily political. Don’t believe me? Well, lace up your shoes and grab your backpack, because I’m about to take you to school. Let’s start with Gears of War.

“What?” some of you are probably thinking. “Gears of War? A game about double-muscled linebackers shooting aliens? Come on, that’s not political at all!”

Oh yes it is. Not only is there commentary between the action set-pieces about how the military mindset of ‘Shoot first, shoot some more, blow shit up, and for good measure bomb them to the stone age and back, then maybe ask some questions’ is a short term gain and a long term loss, but throughout the games there’s an underlying theme about how humanity’s unquenchable thirst for natural resources is what doomed the whole planet in the first place. In this case, a fictional superfuel called ‘imulsion.’ What starts as a ‘dwarves of Moria digging too greedily and too deep and awakening something dark and dreadful’ situation gradually gets worse and humans start getting sick from constant exposure and by the time Gears 3 comes along it turns into a full blown zombie apocalypse. It’s only after humanity swears the stuff off forever and seeks alternative fuel sources when things finally start to get goo...when things finally start to get bet...when things finally start to get less shit.

Still not convinced?

Skyrim ~ The future of both this land and the Empire rides on who wins the civil war. So which side are you on? The side of the Empire that’s ruled and controlled by snobbish elitists who look down on others? Or the side of the Stormcloaks lead by a xenophobic asshat who segregates people because he thinks Skyrim and everything in it belong to Nords and ONLY Nords? Hmm, elitism or racism. Choices, choices...

Bioshock, 1 & 2. ~ Hey, ever read Atlas Shrugged by the objectivist author and real-life Loony Toon Ayn Rand? Guess what, these games are going to show you how that and right-wing ideologies are big steaming piles of whale shit while you kill spliced up mutants that used to be the people who followed said ideas!

Bioshock Infinite ~ Oh, so you thought that from the first two games and the first half of this game that right-wing politics and theocratical rule are bogus and that the answer lays with the left-leaning Vox Populi, right? Guess what? Fooled you! They’re just as bad as the other guys!

Final Fantasy VII ~ Mega-corporations are greedy monsters who care so little for the planet or the people who live on it that they try and crossbreed humans and monsters by locking them in a glass cage and forcing them to bump uglies (fucking really) and humanity’s only chance is to stop the corporate establishment and bring the green back to the Earth! Oh, what’s that? Cloud, Tifa, Barret, and so on all seem less badass now that you know they’re actually tree-hugging hippies? Too bad, they are.

Resident Evil ~ Speaking of mega-corporations, look what happens when a company that makes Wayne Enterprises look like a simple mom and pop shop is left unchecked and deregulated to the point that they can do whatever they want and almost get away with it; like create an unkillable super-solider to sell to the highest bidder but can’t because the serum to create said super-soldier only works on a handful of genetically specific people and turns everyone else into flesh-eating zombies, mutant dogs, and other forms of Eldritch nightmares that eventually gets so bad the US military is forced to nuke an entire city. Oops...

Doom ~ Monsters and demons from Hell are a motherfucker, but they’re only attacking because a greedy mega-corporation (do you sense a recurring theme here?) decided that wind and solar energy just wasn’t good enough and decided to harvest energy from Hell. Who in the name of Zeus’ BUTTHOLE thought that was a good idea!?

Sonic the Hedgehog ~ Come on. The environmental and pro-conservation messages are so NOT subtle that the Saturday morning cartoon made it the central theme.

The Fallout Series ~ We’d be here all fucking day.

Deus Ex, Beyond Good and Evil, Just Cause, Dead Rising, Call of Duty when it was still good, Mirror’s Edge, Grand Theft Auto, Starcraft, Metal Gear Solid, Saints Row, the fucking Mario Bros., I could go on and on. Politics are everywhere. You can’t remove them from games or media in general anymore than you could stop the tide. Again, you can argue the merits of said politics, the subtlety or lack thereof, and you most certainly don’t have to agree with them, but removing them is not only impossible on a grand scale...it’s just an outright bad idea. Remember Gears of War? They tried removing the politics inherent in the series once and tried to make it a typical AAA shooty-shooty bang-bang dudebro-pandering power fantasy, because the studio that bought the franchise and booted the OG developers away listened to their focus groups of 12 year olds and frat boys said that games making them think made their heads do an owie. The result was Gears of War: Judgement, and there’s only one way to describe Gears of War: Judgement.

And it’s not just video-games. Hey, you know that comic ‘The Dark Knight Returns’ who’s more rabid fans and supporters basically want you dead if you don’t validate their obsession with what’s maybe the 14th best Batman story? Well if you want politics removed from comics then you’d better run that shit along with Watchmen, Demon in a Bottle, What’s Funny About Truth Justice and the American Way, and countless other great comics through a fucking paper shredder and burn the remains because there’s more political commentary and media satire in The Dark Knight Returns than there is Batman.

Or how about the movies? Keeping with comics, let’s go with Iron Man, the movie that kicked off the Marvel Cinematic Universe. Oh, a silver spoon-in-mouth billionaire who’s genius intellect is only matched by his monumental ego and his affinity for booze and booty has him so distracted that he doesn’t notice a high-up in his own company is selling weapons to terrorists? Yeah, that’s not political or topical at all! *chuckles*

I honestly could go on, but I think by now you get the picture. Politics are in all forms of media, even if you don’t realize it. Some of the best works of fiction are also heavily political in one shape or form, and the same goes for some of the worst fiction.

Now, I’m only speaking from personal experience here. But one thing I’ve noticed is that when someone says “Keep politics out of video-games/comic books/movies/whatever,” what they almost always mean is “stop talking about problems of women/minorities.” It’s not always the case, but it’s enough of the case to seem like it’s always the case. So Horizon: Zero Dawn was a great game, right? Yeah, it was. But despite selling nearly 3 million copies, a sizable chunk of people never played it and never will because they took one look at the female protagonist and dismissed it as ‘SJW propaganda.’ Which is completely idiotic because the game never brings up social justice at all and the fact the main character is a woman only comes into play during one minor part of the whole story.

That’s not an isolated incident either. It happens pretty much every time a game comes out where the main character isn’t either a talking animal or a 30-something white dude with brown hair, blue eyes, and a bit of stubble on his face. Virginia because the main character was a black woman, Dishonored 2 because one of the playable characters was a woman, DragonAge Inquisition because they argued that women swinging swords wasn’t realistic in a game where dragons and magic exists, everyone dresses like a Judas Priest album cover, there’s two fucking moons, and if you wanted to you could have gay sex with this guy.

And yes, you are the bottom in that relationship because.....fucking duh!

Or for a more recent example, the people who lost their fucking minds because the multiplayer mode in Call of Duty: World War II will feature female soldiers. Because according to these guys the single player mode being a bigger sausage party than Sausage Party as well as whiter than a Starbucks in Toronto just isn’t enough. Oh, and by the way? Anybody who thinks that women and black people didn’t fight in World War II, I hope a history buff as well as the still-living vets of WWII line up and take turns slapping the stupid out of you.

Now you can argue how big this particular group of asshats actually are, but they do exist and they do this shit on a routine basis. They come about all the time and they always the same tired-ass “I’m not racist, but” type of logic when talking about keeping politics out of games. See, they don’t actually care about politics in games. They just don’t like it when someone who doesn’t think like them and isn’t them gets what they want for a change, like a game having a gender option, a female body-type besides “underwear model” being represented, or acknowledging that more than just white dudes fought, bled, and died during historic events, they always find something that doesn’t fit their own narrow worldview and personal “but papa AAA industry said I was his special little snowflake” persecution complex to bitch about. I suppose its’ no surprise, considering these are the same people who are still fighting the tired-ass censorship war from the 90′s during a time where sex MMOs are a dime a dozen and vile, repugnant shit like Hatred, Ethnic Cleansing, and ZOG are available for anyone to just download and play.

But I’m getting sidetracked.

Politics can’t be removed from games. Or comics, or movies, or any form of media. ALL media is political. You can argue the merits and subtlety (or lack thereof) of politics all day as well as debate how on the nose they are, and you certainly don’t have to agree with them. But you’re seriously going to demand that politics be removed from video-games while you have copies of Bioshock, Deus Ex, or The Dark Knight Returns sitting up on your shelf while insisting that politics and social issues were never part of comics/games/whatever in a world where a movie based on the real life event of how a writer used Superman to take down the Ku Klux Klan is being made, I’d say that you’re being just a bit disingenuous OR you’ve been hiding down in the safety bunker for too long and it’s high time you came up for some fresh air.

[hexterah]

(This mix was originally posted on LJ in February of 2008. I’m putting all my old fanmixes online w/ the info here! :D)

IF YOU HAVEN’T PLAYED THE FIRST BIOSHOCK, THERE ARE SPOILERS IN THIS FANMIX (just a warning XD)

1960. Your name is Jack. You're the only survivor in a plane crash in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean. Surprisingly, you find yourself near a curious tower jutting out of the water. You wade over, climb inside and find yourself in a sprawling underwater city, complete with clubs, apartments, factories and leaks. What was this place created for? Who created it? Why? How? It's a technical marvel, why hasn't it been all over the news? These are the questions you are searching for answers to, until more questions materialize, that is. Such as "Who is Atlas and why am I helping him?", "Why is my hand seething fire, insects and electricity?", "Why are these gigantic robots suddenly out for my head?" and "Oh dear god, why is that little girl chugging the red fluid she just needled out of that corpse?" Society here has collapsed, the people have gone absolutely out of their minds, everyone is jacked up on plasmids and now you're stuck in the middle of it. Welcome to Rapture.

Fanmix on Playmoss!: https://playmoss.com/en/hexterah/playlist/would-you-kindly-a-bioshock-fanmix (a couple of the songs won’t play on PM cause of the companies that have their music blocked -- they can be found on the actual youtube site though, if you wanted to hunt down the songs under the cut that the playlist skips~) 

bobby darin .. BEYOND THE SEA ... it's far beyond the stars it's near beyond the moon I know beyond a doubt my heart will lead me there soon ...

[ Take the bathysphere on down to your hometown. ]

................ 

Ignore the lies of Atlas and his parasites. Rapture is on the rise.

................

shiny toy guns .. STARTS WITH ONE ... only three i can’t seem to get enough anyway i can’t speak nothing to say anyway let’s show them the only way let’s show them our hearts ...

[ Don't mind the leaks or the bodies. Just watch your step. ] ................ Andrew Ryan asks you a simple question: are you a man or a slave? ................ temposhark f. imogen heap .. NOT THAT BIG ... I can cut my heart out just like you do and I can suck the life out of it just like you do i'm gonna pick myself up and pull myself together; never revel in recovery mode for when commitment is a dirty word you can't afford to ever slip or let down your guard ...

[ It might feel a little funny with the first injection, Jack. Just a little. ]

................ The Little Sisters Orphanage: In troubled times, give your little girl the life that she deserves. Boarding and education free of charge! After all, children ARE the future of Rapture. ................ the cure .. LULLABY ... on candystripe legs the spiderman comes softly through the shadow of the evening sun stealing past the windows of the blissfully dead looking for the victim shivering in bed searching out fear in the gathering gloom ...

[ Andrew Ryan is your God among Men. ] ................ Approaching a Little Sister is a criminal offense. Do not approach the Little Sisters. ................ gerard mcmann .. CRY LITTLE SISTER ... cry little sister (thou shall not fall) come to your brother (thou shall not die) unchain me sister (thou shall not fear) love is with your brother (thou shall not kill) ...

[ It's up to you, Jack, whether they're rescued or harvested, which means it's up to you whether the big brother in their chemically-enhanced fucked-up-beyond-repair family saves them or kills them and takes all the spoils as his own. ]

................ We all have bills to pay, and the temptation to break curfew to make a little extra ADAM is forgivable. Breaking the curfew is not. Stay on the level, and out of trouble. ................ three days grace .. NEVER TOO LATE ... no one will ever see this side reflected and if there's something wrong who would have guessed it and I have left alone everything that I own to make you feel like it's not too late it's never too late ...

[ People forget that the Big Daddies were once human too. ] ................ The smuggler is the friend of the parasite. It is your duty to report the smuggler. ................ radiohead .. ALL I NEED ... I am the next act waiting in the wings I am an animal trapped in your hot car I am all the days that you choose to ignore you are all I need you are all I need I am in the middle of your picture lying in the reeds ...

[ "Plasmids changed everything. They destroyed our bodies, our minds. We couldn't handle it. Best friends butchering one another, babies strangled in cribs. The whole city went to hell." ] ................ Rumor is the tool of the parasite. Fontaine is dead; Rapture lives. ................ videodrone .. ALONE WITH 20 BUCKS ... living, barely surviving freebasing life till its end divided soulless vices death before life could begin evil dollar bills, life stood still a tumor removed from your brain prescription refilled, a cure for my ill blood stains painted over again you tell me how to think you tell me how to feel cause I want to know what is real is anyone real? ...

[ If Ryan is Rapture's God, then Fontaine is his Lucifer. Once smiled upon for his actions, he's now Ryan's most prominent enemy. ] ................ Attention: A new curfew will be enacted on Thursday. Citizens found in violation will be relocated to Apollo Square. ................ dave gahan .. A LITTLE LIE ... I walk alone and you know I've never felt at home I'm so hard to please and I have everything I need ...

[ "Me family's in a submarine hidden in the foundation of Fontaine Fisheries. I'll meet you there." -- You'd better get used to being lied to, Jack. ] ................ Wanting an item from the surface is forgivable. Buying or smuggling one into Rapture is not. Stay on the level, and out of trouble. ................ joydrop .. BREAKDOWN ... and all the days you pushed around and all the times you lied to yourself and all the dreams we had just might breakdown ...

[ She seems to be the only one with a conscience on this sinking heap of metal. She also acts as yours. Listen to her. ] ................ Andrew Ryan reminds us: we all make choices, but, in the end, our choices make us. ................ kate bush .. EXPERIMENT IV ... they told us all they wanted Was a sound that could kill someone from a distance So we go ahead and the meters are over in the red It's a mistake in the making ...

[ Nothing holds back the experiments in Rapture. And nothing is saved from them. Plants, animals, children -- all up for grabs. ] ................ Wallet a little light? At Surgical Savings we'll happily work out an affordable payment plan for any major procedure. Potentially terminal illnesses won't wait until payday. Should you? ................ coheed & cambria .. THE HOUND (OF BLOOD AND RANK) ... come on, you've got to give it to me as though you want it too come on and set me free i'll dig it till we've made your grave oh, you've been a bad, bad boy i'll cut it 'til I carve it out and stick it in a sad, sad song why the bother, you're no brother you’re the wrong I need boy, we all found an audience while you found the worst of me ...

[ The body is a terrible thing to waste. So says the artist. One does the cutting and the carving and the other does the sculpting and the performing and they're two sides of one horribly twisted and beautiful coin. ] ................ Attention: Any public congregation of more than four persons is considered an actionable offense. ................ frou frou .. PSYCHOBABBLE ... do just what I tell you and no one will get hurt don't come any closer cause I don't know how long I can hold my heart in two make no sudden movements and no one will get hurt you're not coming over if you know what's good for me why would I be leaving you? ...

[ Andrew Ryan has a way with women, yes? Well, he also has a way with his children. A man chooses, a slave obeys. ] ................ The bottom of the ocean is our home, but it can also be a dangerous place. Any leak is a bad leak. Report any unexplained water promptly to the Central Council. ................ the birthday massacre .. PLAY DEAD ... thinking hurts and thoughts don't rhyme to those of us who've never tried to find a face behind our lipstick smiles and as our pretty faces die our plastic hearts will wonder why the make-up just won't hide the scars of time ...

[ "Now, would you kindly find a crowbar or something? Bloody splicers sealed Johnny in before they ... goddamn splicers." -- They were the citizens of this once thriving metropolis. Now they've been reduced to babbling, deformed maniacs who are only out for another high. ] ................ We all move the Great Chain, and the Great Chain moves us all. ................ moving units .. THE KIDS OF ORANGE COUNTY ... a suburban tease you can see their dirty knees you can see them bounce off a wall like a racquet hits a ball but they always come back again a Jamaican breeze you can smell the anti-freeze you can see the world is a maze when you're young and you're free to be anything you wanted to be ...

[ It's all about class, dollface, and you don't fit in! Parasite! ] ................ The parasite hates three things: free markets, free will, and free men. ................ brand new .. WELCOME TO BANGKOK [ instrumental ]

[ "Don't know what I was thinkin'. Never spliced up once the whole time I was down here in this aquarium. Figured it was bad to mix business with pleasure, but WHOOO! Forget all the nose candy and floor polish I been wastin' time with! THIS stuff is the mothers milk!" ] ................ "That's just the Plasmid Blues, Mary. You just need to slow down a bit on the splicing. Before you know it, you'll be as right as rain. Remember, a smart splicer is a happy splicer." ................ ambo .. BLUEBIRD ... and the sun was brilliant too ...

[ Maybe one day you'll see the sun again, Jack. ]