#i think its because i see myself in somebody sheltered alone in the world seeking life and fearing it

[mifunebooty]

Sorry to report I adored poor Things

[haberdashing]

Pieces

Jon ends up somewhere unfamiliar with his mind fighting him every step of the way as he tries to put the pieces together regarding where he now is and how he ended up there.

(Or, an AU in which Jon became trapped within Martin’s domain.)

on AO3

[CLICK]

[A SOFT BUT STEADY RAIN FALLS]

JON

God, this place is dreary. And boring. Not sure which of the two is worse.

...of all the places in all the world, why did I end up here?

[BRIEF BURST OF STATIC]

Wait a second... that’s new.

[FOOTSTEPS ON DIRT, APPROACHING]

JON

Is that a tape recorder?

[MORE FOOTSTEPS. JON’S NEXT WORDS ARE SLIGHTLY LOUDER]

JON

Can’t remember the last time I saw one of those. Though then I can’t remember... can’t remember...

[A BITTER LAUGH]

JON

Can’t remember a lot of things right now.

Good lord, this thing’s probably older than I am, isn’t it? What’s next, a floppy disc? The screech of connecting to dial-up Internet?

[A MOMENT OF SILENCE, SAVE FOR THE STILL-FALLING RAINDROPS]

JON

Just... just the tape recorder then? A-alright. I’ll take it with me, I suppose. It’s better than nothing. Marginally.

At least it helps break up the scenery. Not a lot of variety here, is there?

Actually, now that I’m, I’m holding it in my hand, something about this feels... right? No, not right. Familiar, maybe?

[A DISGRUNTLED SIGH]

JON

It’s probably nothing.

Everything seems to be nothing here... or, or to slip away, when I try to hold onto it... how am I supposed to put the puzzle together when I can’t even keep hold of the pieces?

But it didn’t... it wasn’t always like this. I can remember that much, at least. There are places other than this one, other than this endless field of gray grass...

Grass isn’t even supposed to be gray, is it? I suppose a bit of color would liven things up too much. Can’t have that.

Everything’s gray here.

[FINGERS SOFTLY TAPPING AGAINST PLASTIC AS JON CONTINUES TO SPEAK]

JON

I don’t know why I’m telling you all this. It’s not like you’ve got a better shot of making it out of here than I do. And you’re probably not even working, or, or turned-

Oh, it is switched on. Been listening this whole time, then? Pick up any juicy secrets?

Good luck with that. If I’ve got any secrets, even I don’t know them.

Surprised the rain hasn’t fried the poor thing already. Unless it’s as much a part of this place as the rain is...

[SLOW PACING]

JON

It’s actually kind of nice, getting to talk to you. I mean, you’re probably not even picking half of it up, between the rain and- and all the static and such, there’s a reason people don’t use tape recorders anymore, but...

At least I can pretend someone will listen to this eventually. I know nobody’s out there to listen to my rambling otherwise. I think that’s... that’s the point of this place, somehow. All this space, and nobody but myself to occupy it.

One man against the world.

[WEARY SIGH]

JON

It hurts, but it’s... it’s a soft kind of hurt.

Maybe I should describe it to you, in case you actually do make it out of here without me. Or in case somebody else makes it in here without me. Hell, for all I know, I’m surrounded by people, and something just made it so I can’t perceive any of them.

JON (STATEMENT)

I am alone in-

JON

No, that sounds wrong somehow... maybe I’ll try third person? Give it a bit more... distance. Emotionally.

This place is all about distance, after all, isn’t it?

JON (STATEMENT)

There is a man who is alone in a field. His name is... is... is not important. The man himself might be, perhaps, but- but rarely to the right people, or, or for the right reasons. It’s never a good feeling to be judged by your worst moments, by your deepest regrets, even if the one judging ends up thinking you did a great job by the end of it.

Part of him is used to being alone, to pushing people away, to acting like what they already think you are if it’ll get them not to look more closely. But it was always his decision before.

There are no decisions to be made here, in this empty field full of grass and rain and wind.

[THE RAIN PICKS UP]

JON (STATEMENT)

It is cold and wet and dreary and so, so lonely. It is one thing to choose such a life, to know you could always seek out warmth if you so chose but always choosing otherwise. It is another thing entirely to be stranded within such a life, to be unable to find a single source of heat, to be cut off from any potential shelter.

The man isn’t sure how long he has been here. Hours? Weeks? Years? Time blends together seamlessly here, with no sun visible from beyond the layer of gray rainclouds. It has been a long time, at any rate. Long enough that he gave up crying for help some time ago.

There is nobody around to hear his cries; he knows that much now. No matter how loudly he screams, all that is there to hear is the rain and the field and the gray. And the louder he screams, the colder he gets inside, with no way of warming up ever again.

He remembers being warm before, distantly. He remembers colors besides black and white and shades of gray. The details of the memories are fleeting, but the sense of them is clear.

He had once been to parties--for a birthday, perhaps, or another holiday? There had been cake and jokes and smiles, and everything was dry and warm. But he was always on the outskirts, wasn’t he? Afraid to get too close. Afraid to let anyone see him and all his flaws.

That fear, at least, is gone now. His flaws will be forgotten by time, certainly, but so will the rest of him.

The funny thing is, though he never wanted others to learn about him, he wanted to learn about others, especially those on the outskirts like himself, those who could easily be lost to history without him. He wanted to know all about the world, to solve as many of its mysteries as he could.

Now he is lost within one of those same mysteries himself. He might say he was one of those same mysteries, but a mystery requires somebody knowing about it, caring about it, wanting to solve it. He’s not sure he’s remembered enough by the outside world even for that much.

He remembers... he remembers his grandmother’s basket of yarn, always filled with colorful little bundles--this one a deep green, that a muted purple, another a vivid yellow.

Even then, though, he was near all of this, but not actually part of it. She wouldn’t let him touch the yarn, you see, even once he was an adult, because she still only ever saw the little boy she took in so long ago.

“Don’t fuss with them, Jon.” “I don’t want you tangling those up, Jon.” “You’d only prick your finger, Jon.”

JON

[Unsure] ...that’s my name, then, isn’t it? Jon?

It feels wrong. It feels too... ordinary. People named Jon aren’t supposed to- to deal with things like this.

Or maybe they are. Maybe there’s thousands of us, or millions, or billions, each with our own endless field to explore. Maybe I just think I’m special because I happen to be the one looking at this one.

...though that doesn’t explain the tape recorder.

JON (STATEMENT)

The man--Jon--he only touched the yarn once, after she was gone, and by then it was ratty and covered in dust and Jon had never learned how to make use of all those pretty colors, so he just gave them away.

He had color in his life, and he gave it all away, just like that.

JON

Bit on the nose, that.

Unless it’s intentional. Unless I chose this place, chose to stay in this gray field, just like I chose to get rid of that yarn back then.

It’s not a nice place to be, sure, but... but maybe the other choices were worse.

...wait.

[STATIC RISES]

JON

No, no, I- I made a choice, and it wasn’t this. I- there was another place like this, but it was a, a beach instead of a field, stretching on and on... and I got out.

I got out, and I wasn’t alone. There was- was someone with me. Who was it?

Maybe I can...

JON (STATEMENT)

The man had been alone like this before--alone not by choice but by sheer lack of options, a small speck on a seemingly-endless landscape. There, too, he had ended up covered in water, though then it had been fog and stinging sea salt that filled the air.

Jon had gone in there as a choice, but not because he was giving in to the isolation, because he was ready to be consumed by that vast and uncaring landscape. He had gone in because of... someone. Someone that he wanted to save from the same loneliness that had filled so much of his own life. Someone that he cared deeply about.

Someone that he loved, though he had never admitted as much out loud back then.

And he--this, this someone, this other man that he loved--he had started out gray, too, when they met there. But then he- he looked at Jon, and Jon looked at him, and all the color returned to him, the only patch of color in a world of gray-

JON

...I... I hadn’t noticed, but... I’ve turned gray too now. I remember my skin being brown, but now it’s just a, a darkish sort of gray. Scars are still there, but they’re gray too. All of me’s gone gray.

But so was, was... I can see him, now, in my mind’s eye. That bright red hair, all those freckles, but- his name-

[realization] Martin. That was it, wasn’t it? That is it. His, his name is Martin, and if Martin could escape, if he could get all his color back, then- then so can I.

I just need to think. To... to put the pieces together...

My name is Jon- Jonathan Sims. I didn’t choose to be here. I had that choice once, and I chose differently. I chose to save myself, to, to save Martin. And I’m here because... because...

[STATIC RISES]

JON

Because he’s here. He- he wanted to come here. This place is, is connected to him. Martin wanted to see it for himself. And so he entered without me, but he’s here--I can’t see him, but he’s here, and he won’t leave without me, I know he won’t.

[stronger] My name is Jon Sims, and Martin will come back for me, will find me, because Martin is part of this place, but he’s also a part of me now. I love him, and I trust him, and I know, I know he will look for me once he’s realized I’ve gone missing-

Martin, I- Martin, can you hear me? Have you heard any of this?

Martin, I’m here, I want to be with you, I remember you-

MARTIN

[distant] Jon?

JON

Martin? Martin, I’m right here!

[FOOTSTEPS APPROACHING]

MARTIN

Jesus, Jon, I thought-

JON

Don’t worry, it’s fine, I’m- I’ll be fine.

[RAIN IN THE BACKGROUND QUIETS DOWN]

MARTIN

God, I’m sorry.

JON

It’s alright, Martin. It’s not your fault.

MARTIN

This whole place is, though, isn’t it?

JON

I know you... [inhale] You didn’t want this. Didn’t want any of this.

MARTIN

But it still hurt you. And I’m sorry you had to go through that.

[FABRIC RUSTLES]

JON

The important thing is it- it’s over now. You didn’t forget about me. I thought maybe everybody forgot about me.

MARTIN

I would never forget about you, Jon.

JON

Is that a promise?

[SOFT LAUGH, MUFFLED BY FABRIC]

MARTIN

It can be.

[CLICK]

[strike-back-now-info]

This whole immigration insane.

This whole immigration thing is insane. I am a political refugee who exiled to the USA as an 8 year old child along with my 4 year old sister. My parents sent us to the USA alone when they couldn’t attain the proper immigration papers needed to enter the USA LEGALLY. They remained behind in Cuba until they were able to enter LEGALLY into the USA and apply for political asylum.

My sister and I were placed in a holding camp the USA had set up for the other children like us who were being airlifted to the USA escaping the brutal and oppressive Castro regime. My father was jailed several times by Castro for political dissent, and his business was confiscated. My parents, sent us to safety and freedom, hoping someday soon they could join us. Fourteen thousand Cuban children from the ages of 3-16 sought refuge in the USA in what eventually was called ‘The Pedro Pan Program’.

We were placed in a foster home several weeks after being vetted in the detention center. Because we had left Cuba with very little personal belongings do to Castro’s strict orders, (No toys, 3 sets of clothes, 1 piece of jewelry) and no money, we were provided all our physical needs. We were fed, schooled, clothed, and given shelter in an abandoned military base. We all ate together in the cafeteria, and were assigned to barracks. School rooms were set up.

I was 8 years old, too young to really understand what and why this was happening to us. My parents made me promise I wouldn’t cry so that my little sister would not be scared, so all my fears and sadness were suppressed. It was a trauma I cannot explain to anyone who has not lived through it. However, I can now completely understand the reasons my parents made this tremendous sacrifice, and I still clearly recall my parents faces watching our luggage being ransacked by the armed Cuban soldiers, and the look of sadness knowing they might never see their precious little daughters again.

Thankfully, my parents were able to escape Cuba a year later, and we were reunited with them s couple of weeks after they arrived. They got out of Cuba just in time before the diplomatic relations between the USA and Cuba were suspended due to the October Missile Crisis. We were one of the fortunate families who were able to reunite. Many families remained separated for many years, their children having forgotten even how to speak Spanish.

I am appalled by the way the liberals and the media is portraying what’s happening at our borders. The USA is the most generous, hospitable country in the world. This country has provided so much assistance, shelter and hope to so many in its young existence. ‘The beacon on the hill’ like Reagan so eloquently said.

To see and hear the hatred they use to malign and discredit President Trump simply because he’s attempting to permanently resolve the mess previous administrations have ignored and precipitated, absolutely breaks my heart. I have no words to express the outrage and the sadness I feel watching and hearing them lie, disrespect and show such disdain for this country I love so much.

I love this country and the shelter, opportunity and FREEDOM it provided my family since we were welcomed. Watching the tv images of children being cared for by the overwhelmed border officers and the immigration staff, and the way these anti-American news outlets are using this crisis to advance their anti-Trump hatred campaign is completely out of control. It is frightening. The fact American masses are being manipulated by this constant left-wing indoctrination methods is alarming. Having been subject to brainwashing as a kindergartner in Cuba I recognize the radical tactics. I grew up in a home where political discussion and how precious freedom and opportunity found in the USA is what every person on earth deserves, I am appalled by the recognition of the Marxist ideology this left-wing is aspiring to inject into the USA government.

They are gradually and persistently eroding the strong fiber the USA forefathers so wisely founded this country on. They use emotional sabotage to achieve their objectives. What’s more heartbreaking then exhibiting outrage over children being separated from their parents? Who wouldn’t feel a tug on their heart if all this were the real and complete facts?

However, they are only telling us the part of the story that promotes and advances their narrative. They fail to tell you these immigration laws have been around for decades. I know. I am a recipient of those policies. Do I consider myself a victim? NO!!! AND NO!!!

I am infinitely thankful and grateful for the generosity and kindness this country bestowed on us. I could never find the words to express my gratitude and my love for the country which has given the world’s oppressed the HOPE for SELF DETERMINATION. EQUAL OPPORTUNITY. FREEDOM OF SPEECH to even yell obscenities, mock, and besmirch a leader who has done nothing to deserve it except stand up for the country he loves, the people who volunteer to protect it, the flag and national anthem that represent it, and affirm the constitution many of his fellow citizens seem determined to overthrow and eliminate.

God forbid he should strive to defend its sovereignty. God forbid he should put the citizens he was freely elected to represent above all others. God forbid he should insist on respecting the flag that proudly waves its Stars and Stripes. God forbid he has made a commitment to honor life, even the lives of those unborn innocents. God forbid he should stand up proudly for American exceptionalism and the American way of life. God forbid he has made capitalism work again by lowering taxes, giving entrepreneurs new hope to succeed, jobs to the unemployed.

President Trump has been in the public arena for decades. You would think at some point, while a well known celebrity, somebody might have accused him of racism, fascism, naziism, homophobia, etc.etc.etc. But no. His biggest scandals? Divorce. Sad, but hardly uncommon in today’s world. Bankruptcy. And then recovery, success and wealth regained. Pomposity. True, perhaps. Narcissism. True, but what person confident enough to run for the US presidency can claim humility? None, I would argue.

The abject hatred and rhetoric directed at this man is illogical and crosses the line of normal and acceptable social behavior. I fear for his life, his family, and his supporters. The rancor and violent outbursts of complete and utter disdain is palpable. Frankly, I can no longer justify trying to understand the irrationality of the vitriol. It has surpassed my ability to accept and/or understand. All I am capable of at this point is prayer for protection, strength, guidance and favor for Mr. Trump, his family and those of us who support him.

I believe with all my heart that this man was ordained by God to lead us at this critical time in our history. God picks the most imperfect and unworthy to achieve His biggest purpose and His plans. It’s always darkest before the storm, but I firmly believe in the creator who promised a rainbow at the end of the storm.

The storm is raging. We need to stay strong, faithful and prayerful. Many of us will confront strife and violent stormy weather.

But the rock upon which this country was established on is strong, solid and deep. Those of us who know this are being called to be faithful to speak the message, and courageous enough to stand firmly on the principles that determine and established who we are as individuals and as a nation.

In the Declaration of Independence it clearly and radically affirms that we are to rely on our Creator, and all our rights come inalienably from Him. No power on earth can separate us from Him upon whom our nation has been blessed by throughout the last 250 years.

I pray incessantly for those who mean us harm to cease and desist. I pray for all our representatives to find compromise, guidance and peaceful resolution. I pray wisdom for all those who are blinded by the lies to seek the truth. I pray our flag continues to wave proudly and waves over those who volunteer to secure peace, safety and freedom for us to live by.

God bless the USA!🇺🇸🙏🏽