#id also like it if people listened to me outside of when im spiralling and outside of when im a potential danger to myself.

[french-fryyyy]

Curls around your feet and cries

Literally going insane because almost no one fucking likes me or cares enough to remember anything about me and most of the people who do have some semblance of caring about me get annoyed and angry at my existence and wish they'd rather not have to be around me and fuck I hate this I hate my life no one ever cares that much and the people who might care have more important things on their mind than my fucking waste of space self and I'm sorry gang (gang referring to the voices in my head) but marching band was keeping me occupied for the past few months and now that that's over for good idk how I'm going to make it, there's winter guard but that's not nearly as mind consuming I'm sorry guys

[preciadosbass]

28/7/14 [draft from yesterday]

woke up at 11:47 to my parents in my doorway. mum started putting stuff on my bed but i though it was just stuff of mine that id left around the house but it turned out she’d bought me some stuff which is really nice. she got me socks [because i only have one non-fluffy pair], slippers [because our dogs hair is everywhere and my pyjamas end up getting the hair all over the house, even after the place has been hoovered], and purple trainers [because beforehand i only had my converse + knee high converse, and they were both getting muddy and causing me blisters when i go on walks.] i feel extra bad about the argument we had last night now.

i was super tired and my eyes still felt like they were glued shut but i decided not to go back to sleep. i got a little anxious when i saw my ex bestfriend was sad so i sent him a message telling him that i’m here for him and stuff. i still care about him so much, even if we don’t talk anymore. i watched a mikey way complication and listened to a podcast with the way brothers on up until 1:20 when i had a nap [im lazy, i know]

i should mention, i had the weirdest dream. so excuse how bad this explanation is going to be. me and kellin [quinn] were both teens and we were at a restaurant. he had tacky plastic skates on and started doing backflips in them? and running on the spot and joking about being chased? it was such a strange dream to have, especially because i haven’t had one in ages. also, my dad was there for some reason lmaoo

i woke up at around 2 and stayed with boris until 3:20 before i had something to eat and started researching a few crime cases. id been thinking about reading a bit of my sylvia plath book but i got in another argument with my parents [not really with my dad] and practically went into sensory overload so i went in my room and scrolled through ed related things on reddit. although i just wanted to have a conversation with them.

my dad lets things go easier, but mum tends to start saying ‘maybe you’d be happy if i’m not here’ and stuff like that, which i have never and would never imply to her. it just makes me feel like shit, she acts like i’m not allowed to be mad. and i feel absolutely terrible writing this, especially because of the whole gift thing from earlier, and i know shes probably just stressed, and i love her, but nobody acknowledges that i am too. they never do, whatever i do seems to anger my mum. anyway, i spiralled writing this and i don’t wanna turn it into a complete vent post, so let’s carry on.

i carried on scrolling through reddit until like 8 where i went on a walk with all of my family [which we haven’t done in at least a year]. didn’t get off to a good start because the second i walked outside my sister dropped her phone on our rock driveway and smashed her phone to pieces.

she was arguing about paying for the damage up until we got to the park when she went back home with my dad. me and my mum carried on walking while we did would you rather because anything else was starting an argument. we ended up doing so right before we got home but at least i walked for an hour today, i wish it’d been more though. also at one point she asked me if i was questioning my gender like WHAT?? why didn’t i take the opportunity to tell her ffs.. when i got home i obviously said hi to boris and then scrolled on twitter for a bit.

one of my acquaintance’s [i call anyone my age that i know that, because i know people, but they’re not nice to me whatsoever, we don’t hang out, they bully me, i don’t consider them a friend etc] was being their usual self again. i try everything i can to politely escape them/avoid them but i just don’t know how. id feel bad cutting contact with no explanation but if i told them all the disgusting things they do they’d deny it. but i know i have to at some point, they’re such a bad person and i’m tired of putting up with them.

anyway, i feel like i seem like a bitch for not liking them, and the problem in every scenario i’ve written about today so let me know if anyone actually reads this and wants to know what makes her such a bad person. after seeing that i listened to some evanescence and i was just about to put on my fight club dvd i got from a bootsale a while ago when my dad said he was ready for me to ask questions about boris soon so i went up to their room.

we actually didn’t argue tonight because i was able to get on with it quite quickly so i did my teeth and said goodnight to boris around 3. he again started purring before id even started stroking him, he’s so precious. also went over my cals by like 60 today so that sucks

have a good day/night -_<

[mihai-florescu]

i envy people you talk to regularly youre such an interesting person, i think somewhere theres a life where everyone can fit themselves into and i know you said you prefer being a spectator but ?im not sure how to word it? i think theres something so special about finding the place where you feel like you were meant to be and i think that parts of the world (schooling especially) loves ripping that part of humanity out.. i think that there are people who prefer writing stories and ppl who only prefer reading them but maybe in my mind “spectators” also deserve to find other spectators who also dont fit in in where they r as well but

who knows!! im not trying to sway your opinion or anything its just a very interesting convo that i thought of myself before but in the opposite way you do, where ive thought of myself completely removed from the world but doing everything i can to give myself hope that theres somewhere i can stay if this is the only option i have, id love to listen to your thesis even if its different from what i started talking about i find this whole topic interesting ^_^ sorry if i made this too serious or something ahshdha you can feel free to not answer it i havent had an interesting convo like this in soo long lol

-youtalklikeeichianon

Sorry i didnt reply earlier, im constantly scared. Mostly about this project, then life in general. Ive spent so much time trying to get in mine and other people's heads that i cannot conceptualize the project taking any visual form beyond "having the audience imagine things themselves" but that is so not gonna get me to graduate visual art school... id welcome school ripping out my humanity if it meant id finally be at peace and not struggle, i think thats preferable even. But instead it keeps me going outside my head and trying to be a person when I belong in the wires of a computer or in the clouds instead...

Well ultimately i think school is good for me, it's giving me some sort of structure and identity. Im sure the reason im scared to graduate is 1. Yes i dont think i can make anything visual to express or reflect my research or topic in a meaningful, worthwile way, im not smart enough for that, and 2. What will i be after i shed this status of student? There is nothing i want to be.

I appreciate the hope for a spectator kinship but i worry this part of myself *is* the depression talking and if i find someone else in my state id just go for a suicide pact. If anything i need people whobwant to live and tell stories that i can observe and help make sure they come to life. Like i cant work on my own project without spiraling into "it's worthless" territory but i can help others with theirs becsuse *they* believe and have hopes, and im just passing the time trying to figure out why people seek escapism and why stories impact us, and arriving at esoteric answers that could very well be me projecting on the rest of humanity, except i have some cool papers ive read that i can cite inbetween my own statements about the world.

[kristiemewisstan]

The Tortured Poets Department: The Anthology Review (or me slowly going from spiraling in excitement to madness to sadness in 1 hour):

The Black Dog-

SO GOOD THIS IS SO GOOD IM YELLING THIS HAS MY FAV PRODUCTIKN THUS FAR I STILL XANT BELIEVE IT EITHER TAYLOR WHAT TGE FUCK | listen 2 cause I was to hype to truly listen, the magic fabric of her dreamin’ 🥺, oh the original father cheated song, DO YOU HATE ME? ooooof the fact that she felt made fun of by him and still went on to do her shit is so strong and I love her, your honor

imgonnagetyouback-

This one is VERY GOLD RUSH and I’m in love (I’m so sorry I’m not gonna be able to be unbiased rn because I’m too fucking excited), the ahh ahhhhs are so GOOOOOOODDDDD

The Albatross-

“One less temptress one less dagger to sharpen” OOF I feel like I’m in terrible danger of a heart attack, Taylor, I-I Love This Song So Much it’s so folklore

Chloe or Sam or Sophia or Marcus-

THIS IS SO GOOOOOOOOOD TAYLOR WHAY THE FUCK MAN, Certified Horse Girl, I’m gonna need to be medicated after this

How Did It End?-

I HEREBY CONDUCT THIS POSTMORTEM IS SUCH A HARD LINE TO START A SONG WITH, the amount of piano overall in these pleases me IMMENSELY, SITTING IN A TREE D-Y-I-N-G yeah Taylor that’s what YOU ARE DOING TO ME

So High School-

THIS IS WHAT I WANTED THE WHOLE ALBUM TO BE, 💯 made to vibe like a coming of age story, “YOU GONNA MARRY KISS OR KILL ME” I LOVE HER, bridge goes HARD

I Hate It Here-

scared to go outside, OH MU GOD JUST THE WHOLE SONG I KEEP WANTING TO WRITE LYRICS DOWN, so folklore, this ones it, ITS IT I LOVE IT SO MUCH

thanK you aIMee-

Oh so we cheated okay Joe I see how it is your days are numbered, SING FUCK YOU AIMEE, HELL YEAH TAYLOR, ID WRIT A THOUSAND SONGS THE YOU FIND UNCOOL, ITS ON SIGHT, OH ITS HAPPY NOW YAY

I Look in People’s Windows-

Okay stalker much lol, this one is sad :(, very pretty though I’m sorry I can’t focus on the lyrics I’m too hype, very folklore so very sad

The Prophecy-

THIS SOUNDS LIKE ANOTHER SONG BUT I CANT PLACE IT it’s gonna kill me, “who do I have to speak to about if they can redo the prophecy” rip my heart out my god, DONT NEED MONEY JUST SOMEONE WHO WANTS MY COMPANY, also a very sad one

Cassandra-

snake mention 🐍, THE ALTO UNDERLAY OH MY GOD, I normally am not the largest fan of vocal layering when it’s this obviously but this is absolutely lovely, this one tells a VERY GOOD story, “BUT THEY NEVER SPARED A BRICK FOR MY SOUL” OOOOOOF

Peter-

the piano started off this song and I immediately smiled and it ends up being such a bittersweet song, “promises oceans deep but never to keep” these songs rip my heart more and more and more, CAUSE LOVES NEVER LOST WHEN PERSPECTIVE IS EARNED this really hurt me, this longing hurts me

The Bolter-

She’s a runner she’s a track star! THE CHORUS ugh I love it Taylor why do you have to be so good, yeah this one was very good and I relate to being scared of commitment after heartache SOOO MUCH

Robin-

“Strings tied to lovers” IM CRYING, “ALL THIS SHOWMANSHIP TO KEEP IT” JOSEPH YOU FUMBLED SO HARD, THE INVISIBLE STRING RIFF IM ALREADY CRYING YOU DIDNT NEED TO DO THAT TO ME, i will never be able to listen to this song and invisible string in the same day I think it’s genuinely break me

The Manuscript-

the opening piano made me close my eyes and take a deep breath in, New Year’s Day vibes BUT SAD, oh god you know what I’ll kill him, I’ll take the hit, she knew what the agony had been for 🥹 fuck

First Listen Overall- 10/10

I have no notes it was everything I dreamed the actual album would be Taylor please let me buy this on vinyl I need to have it in my grasp also please give me the lyrics written out so I can analyze it plz

I don’t have a favorite they are all my favorite you could pay me to choose

[irl]

wow!

yo money problems lol

//vent

okay like. ik im traumatized but like its wild every day i uncover new facets to the trauma

hold on lemme like. pack a bowl and get myself set up for success

—

that break was like an hour longer than id anticipated but its given me time to calm down and all.

anyway i was homeless for a while, the hippie manipulated me into it, and financially abused me for like two straight years of hell yadda yadda whatever

like ive always had money problems, i grew up poor and id only ever not been dirt poor for like 6 months (ah. the first half of 2021…………… except the job was killing me tbh) but like. what the hippie put me through was a whole different level that i dont think ive even begun to recover from

listen. living out of a four door hatchback that was filled with Stuff and Shit and Trash and Shit and Who Knows What and Shit and also infested with cockroaches. to the point where even during the middle of the day in the blazing heat with no ac while driving ans they have literally 80% of the vehicle to hide in and they were still crawling up my legs. when i slept i had to wrap my head and face up in my blankets i was twrrified of them crawling into my mouth or nose or ears and there were so many i felt like it was a definite reality.

that does things. being forced to live like that. off of nothing. i had lit cigarettes flicked at my head while i stood at an interstate exit with a sign begging strangers for money with no other option because of the trap the hippie had ensnared me in.

of course her main priority — and thus mine because keeping me high all the time was important for her to keep control — was to get enough each day for more weed. enough for us to get some food from the dollar menu from mcdonalds to “get some good protein in us” and sometimes we even had enough to go to some dollar store and spend ten dollars and leave with fifty dollars worth of food. enough to last us the week and feed all three of us. me, her, and her son.

i learned how to con. i learned how to steal. i learned how to scam. i did it more times than i could count. nothing bad against like. actual people. sometimes id pull a con on someone with a fancier car to get a couple gallons of free gas. this was back in 2019 and 2020 when gas was Cheap Cheap. everything else was always done at big box stores

ofc eventually we got caught. or rather she got caught and dragged me down with her kicking and screamjng and flailing and to more trauma but that was just a few hotel visits at jail it wasnt that bad lol

anyway. im, i think understandably, terrified of that happening again lmao. not just the financial abuse and the situation but like even to the root core being homeless again.

every time i lose track of my spending outside of more than a Five Dollars Definite Range i start freaking out. immediately and fully i am convinced that all of my money is gone and i have Nothing At All and im going to miss rent and im going to be kicked out and im going to have nothing tomorrow and i wont be able to survive it this time (even if rhis outrageous thing were to happen i would survive it but when im in a spiral i cant remember it).

god Forbid that my banks website is down or unresponsive when i try to check to assuage myself. thats when i start immediately and fully panicking. i start crying its hard for me to self regulate. i cant bring myself away from the reality ive convinced myself of and i obsessively check the bank app in any browser or way i can until i find an answer

so its fun

[mrs-mikko-rantanen]

Uhm, my day was decent? I mean aside from the fact that mornings exist and I did not want to wake up in time for my shift at work. But. And the end of the day when I have literal hours to do stuff after.. it works out cuz. Usually I get off and its oh shit I have enough time to halfway emotionally recharge and then its time for bed.

But. I got in and E^2 had put like. My name down on the schedule, and. That was great really. And we had this sheet for sign up of, basically what areas you want to be personally responsible for. And I signed light and it was great. And I dont think anyone really noticed cuz the manager wasn't there and no one else really looked at the schedule or anything else. But. It made me happy.

Still haven't gotten my name tag changed and honestly I dont think I'm going to. Cuz. I feel like I'm just being a bother asking again. But. It is what it is I guess.

I got off at five and its now nine and ive just been vibing in the car listening and singing to Spotify since I got off just trying to keep the sad at bay. And I should probably go home but. I dont want to. Cuz I know I'm just gonna wallow in the sad and self destructive tendencies if i go home.. If I ask nicely will the fae take me in as one of their own and I can become a cryptid in the woods?????

I have a three day weekend coming up and im considering doing a touch up on my hair since its really washed out. But I cant decide if I wanna keep it fully red or try and do like an ombre double tone thingy.. but I'm not sure what other color I'd try to do to the tips? Idk

I kinda wish my hair was longer so I could do like. The galaxy hair thing? Where its various shades of purple and blue and some pink and it looks different depending on how you style it. But I also know attempting to grow my hair out longer than I already plan to is a bad idea, cuz the sides and back are already getting too long and I hate it. But I wish I could do fun stuff with it too

Oh well. The duality of man i guess..

Uhm. I bought a giant plastic egg the other day, that reminds me of a dragons egg kinda. And I'm trying to decide if I should keep a hoard of dice in there or a hoard of crystals. Cuz. Dice and the clacky math rocks. But. Also shiny crystally gems

Speaking of dice I also really kinda want to try and get into a dnd group, but social anxiety and I have zero idea where to start with that so. That's fun.

Im currently resisting the urge to go and get more holes and metal in my head too. I just. The red hair makes me feel cool and powerful and I wanna look punk and

Sorry I've been rambling for like half a novel. I'll stop now before I get annoying. I mean I definitely already am. But you asked for asks and distractions and 👉👈 I love you

Id ask about your day but you seem to want a distraction from that sooo. How about, got any fun headcanons to share??

Thats awesome on the name front!!! I saw that and I got really excited for you when you posted the picture this morning, honestly I think you should bring up the nametag again, esspecially if its showing up on the schedule too. (Oddly enough I kicked around the idea of using a new name with friends and sruff today which is weird mostly bc like i like my name irl, its fairly androgynous and it makes me happy and i love my online name bc it means me :))

My vote is two tone!! I almost did a pink/purple ombre with my hair this round so I say do ittttt (that's also what I say about the extra holes and metal. Do itttttrrr)

That would be a hard choice but u do really like the idea of a giant dragons egg full of dice ngl. I need to find some people to play with too. I'm trying to get b and c in on something but idk if its ever really gonna pan out the way I want it too. My town actually has a pretty active dnd community but I am way too new and way too socially anxious to ever join something like that so I feel you there.

100% not annoying, each paragraph made me smile more. :)

My day was actually mostly ok, i just sorta ruined it with Danny at home. I just pointed out that the idealized dream band life that I wanted and thought I had was what she got and that it made me kinda jealous and she pointed out (correctly) that I'm jealous of so many aspects of her life that she now has a list of things she can't talk to me about for fear of setting me into a spiral and just. Yeah. That wasnt fun.

But work was ok. The kids all were really tierd so there was a fair bit of crying going on, but the weather was really nice so we got to go outside with them for a long time and that was very nice. I also got some really sweet cuddles from a few of them that made me very happy.

Oh! I also have a funny story about them!! So I was squatting (my main position is almost like Spiderman bc I'm down on the kids' level but i can also get up and move if I need to pretty quick) and one of the girls goes and gets a book, then stands right in front of me and points at the floor and says "sit" in the most authoritative voice I have ever hear from a 1 1/2 year old 😂 as soon as I sat down she was in my lap and opening the book so I could read to her.

As far as headcanons.... Sadly my brain is bouncimg mostly art ideas for the Tamgled au and not anything of substance so I may take a crack at that later. Otherwise I keep thinking about whumped up Will crying on the floor and Maurie finding him. Really I'm just thinking about Maurie and Will being bros. A lot. So much. God I love them.

[madeintimeland]

im oversharing this got long sorry. just reminscing on shit ive thought about a million times over again

theres so much art i want to create and so little motivation. i should start smoking weed again bc every time im high i get my best ideas or at least like, it takes away the layer of film over my brain that stops me from being able to come up with creative ideas, but also im scared its going to send me into mental hell again. like i need to be in a perfect state for it lest i fear im going to invoke my months long existential crisis again and i Cannot be doing that shit rn. but also i wonder if its going to be worth it anyways if i can create something to leave on this earth again. like ive been so bad at creativity lately like i want to draw and produce things and im bubbling over with energy and i feel the ideas fermenting in the deep recesses of my brain like theyre nestled into the grooves and folds but i cant access them yet. and i know i can if im stoned. i might turn into a hermit hunched over my tablet all hours of the day just making shit tbh. i absorb so much of the things around me and i know if i try to make something now its going to basically be direct copies of the things i saw but if im high im sure i can actually create something new and beautiful. im scared of being intoxicated again but i was scared to drink again too and i got drunk and proceeded to love it and want to drink every single day because surprise surprise i have alcoholism coded into my dna and consequentially have an addictive personality in general. which is why i felt like my life was useless without weed. all up until i was finally able to get my hands on a stash that would let me smoke whenever i want versus when i would get a small amount every couple of months and completely and utterly fail at ratioing it out and binge it all and then have ridiculously introspective trips where id start to go a little crazy at the end (i have a distinct memory of looking at a meme that had a woman on it and thinking ‘jesus christ... what the fuck is that’ and then spiraled into thinking about how life is pointless but i didnt have enough weed to continue with that train of thought and if i did i may have had my crisis a lot earlier, it was just inevitable) i just felt like being high was the only time i could actually get in touch with my inner self again. like i used to before the thick clouds of depression and psychosis settled in. but then i finally was able to get high for longer than short bursts of time and it all came to a head where my brain broke and i have existential terror now that i feel im going to not be able to deal with confronting again. but every time i say that it never ends up staying permanently, it comes in waves, it all comes in waves. back and forth. i feel beauty in life and then i feel fear. i feel like its all worth it and then i cant stop thinking about the inevitable heat death of the universe and the pointlessness of it all. and then i get a hug or listen to a really good song and i feel like its worth it again. i wonder if this is just a period in my life im not a total stoner or if its actually permanent. anyways point is i want to make so much stuff that my hands ache and my brain rots when i think about how many things inspire me. thats why my aesthetic tag is #inspiration, its been like that for many years now, its stuff that inspires me. but at what point am i going to turn that inspiration into reality? im bad at initiative. my initiative is going to be when i pick up the pot again because im too lethargic and procrastinatey to create the things i want any other time. but when will that be? i cant see a therapist or anything rn and working it out on my own has been mildly successful, not bad, im not spending every single day in terror like i was at this point last year. it started all going away around august after starting in march. march 30th in fact. from then on its been a constant battle with dissociation. funny because just earlier in march was some of the best experiences of my life. i think if lockdown never happened this never would have happened either but at the same time im left wondering how anybody can go through their life without wondering about the meaning of it all and coming out the other side with purpose and resolve. mine was to enjoy myself and find as much beauty and love in life as i can before i die and enhance the lives of the people around me while i can because i feel too small to do anything on a grander scale. and im fine with that, for the most part, but i still get attacked by these waves of thought where i wonder what the purpose of reality is . i always have to smack myself and remind myself no dumbass you already went over this a million times, just enjoy yousrelf while youre here. but when im high its a million times worse cuz the only time i can get my mind off it is when im replacing it with horny thoughts and thats not the only thing i wanna do when im high ofc i want to experience and create and listen to music. but i mean i havent smoked since june. i think the 15th ? i could go back and read my journals to tell exactly when it was but yeah its been almost a year now and i feel like i might have it in me again. i used to love getting high and working on shit so much. some of my best works and most  creative projects and honestly just most enjoyable periods of my life were when i was high. going back to what i was saying about early march 2020 being the best time of my life, idk what it was about me but i was just having a grand old time experiencing absolute beauty playing ark with my friends, feeling so creative and developing new ideas and experiences, and using the freedom and motivation i felt ingame to also want to explore the world irl. i seriously was close to actually finally reading my survival manual and start camping and shit and i wanted to visit my relatives in their hella secluded farmhouse in the middle of fuck nowhere kansas, cuz i did visit there during that time period and i loved it to death, i felt so free. two different relatives actually and they both had that same aesthetic about them. of course they were horribly racist but i mean, thats rural kansas for you. i just wanted to camp in their woods. its funny because that month was simultaneously the best and worst of my life. all because of weed! if i never started smoking or rather never found a reliable source at that point in my life i wonder how i wouldve turned out? id like to chalk this up to fate that im like this, maybe its for the best, maybe smoking again wont help me but maybe it will. i have a way to ease myself back into it i just need that leap of faith and  bravery like i felt when i was drinking again. its funny because i used to be such a fucking druggie and i wanted to get high all the time and then after my existential crisis that all just. stopped. i feell ike everyone i know is sick of me talking about it but it really fundamentally changed me on the inside even if it doesnt seem like it much on the outside so i feel its right of me to talk about it sometimes. it makes me feel better at least. like this is jsut a thing t hat happened, not a fated break from the universe i cant come back from yknow? i dunno. ive rambled on way too fucking long and idk if anyones gonna read this. tldr i want to draw and create so many things and i have too many ideas to deal with but i only feel ill be able to unlock my creativity and motivation if im high but due to bad past experiences im terrified to get high again. i mean ive done and made some pretty cool stuff since then but the motivation and ideas are much fewer and far between compared to the absolute deluge i get when im stoned , whether any of my ideas are actually any good or if they were just high ramblings is up to debate but i think it gave me a really good way of looking at things and i made some pretty cool stuff and i miss it a lot but i dont know if going back to it is going to be a mistake or not and im not brave enough to find out if itll hurt me again or if im ready. yyyyaaaayyyyy hahahaha ✌

[det395]

fic breakdown, March 2020

okay, this might be weird or just a huge humblebrag and Ill own that, but I rlly like hearing ppl talk about their fics n I've been proud of how I've pushed outside of my writing comfort zone in the last half of march. I've definitely been one of those people looking for a distraction during this time and writing fic was that for me, so I wanted to ramble about it!

id love to see other people do this about any of their fics!

Jigsaw Falling into Place (3.4k), 03/19/20 

so I fell in love with my same-sex best friend in highschool, what a cliche. and ill relate to dan right now, it was love but it wasn’t happy love. I've been thinking about basing a fic on the experience since literally 2017 but it always felt a bit hard. then, suddenly it just came out of me! and after all this time, it was still cathartic. despite the changes I made to fit dnp, it’s freakily autobiographical lol. the title is a Radiohead song which always reminded me of her, just that feeling of missing out on someone and not being brave enough to stop them as they’re leaving. i don't write many angsty fics, so i’m really proud of the sense of dread that I think is instilled into this writing

Dreams Tonight (1.1k), 03/20/20

a timestamp from antisocialites watch a wilting flower! maybe it’s not the best, but that fic is my pride and joy. most popular and also longest thing I've ever written @ 70k, and writing it was a beautiful experience, nothing has ever flowed out of me quite like this one and I love how i handled the complicated relationships. i always wanted to fill in that time between the last 2 chapters but it was hard to capture the giddy feelings, so I added some wine and I think this is really cute. in hindsight, I do wish I put in more dog action, though. 

it’s sometimes hard for me to write cheesy things, when I spiral about following stereotypes about fanfiction, something that has been a big source of shame for me before, but honestly, i love it. the title is from the song which has the lyric ‘antisocialites watch a wilting flower’, from the album I listened to obsessively as I wrote this. very nostalgic now. definitely a time where i jump through hoops to connect my favourite songs to a story sgdhf

Love that I give (1.6k), 03/26/20

I also sometimes feel shame around writing smut, and it often makes me question my sexuality and spiral a bit. I'm trying to get past that because i think it’s super fun. this took me a looooong time to edit this fic to something i liked, but i think it was worth it! like i said, there’s worse things in the world than posting mediocre smut lmao. i like that i managed to place in a more emotional trope into the background of the shameless smut without making it angsty! based on DHL by Frank Ocean just because i began listening to it on repeat lol. yes all of my titles are just songs

Make Me Feel: part 3 (5.7k), 03/31/20

i began this fic in January of 2019 lmao. i started it when i was in a pretty confusing poly/open relationship, and now i am single, but i still feel like my perspective has grown so much and shaped the ending in the best way. i feel guilty for having such a long break in a WIP, but im so glad i got to write the ending now. i honestly don't even remember what i planned the ending to be in the beginning, but i like where it went. i only just posted so i haven’t gotten feedback so i hope everything i wanted to portray about love and communication and feelings shines through. im glad that i discussed both a sexy side and an emotional side to polyamory, i hope it shows the dimensions to poly relationship and neither follows tropes nor intentionally refuses them. I'm also proud that i got to write some more ~steamy things~ (esp one scene in the 3rd chapter which i love) and think about my relationship to sex and whatnot. title by Janelle monae, obvs lol.

here's the breakdown for the last half of march, when i was quarantined (date --> title --> starting word count --> ending word count --> word count/day/fic) (orange being WIP, green being posted, and purple being school essays I've handed in) courtesy of @jestbee’s wordcount tracker

I wrote 18297 words in total this month which is the first time I've reached (and surpassed) my monthly writing goal this year. on average, I wrote over 1000 words a day for the last 16 days, ranging from 93-2099 words/day

I was hoping to write a cathartic quarantined together fic this month too but I began to have a lot of doubts about it and I restarted it so maybe sometime soon it’ll be released lol

[wasppilled]

time to vent 👉👉

im feeling bad over a number of interconnected reasons but one thing is like

im once again struggling to get stuff done that is important and that i said id do, things that r time sensitive and/or someone is waiting for me to do

and i know im stuck getting myself started on those things on my own and that it is something i struggle with especially when guilt over procrastination gets in the way

and sometimes i talk to friends for help with this but i simultaneously also feel bad for a) needing that assistance to begin with and b) expecting my friends to do that for me whenever i happen to need it

and im thinking 2 myself like. fuck dude , i can't just rely on other people for something that is Important and necessary to my day to day existence, because my friends have lives outside of interacting with me and i dont want to selfishly expect them to just drop everything and help me whenever

and even if theyre able to do it theres still the huge possibility of annoying them with my bullshit where im sure it at least SEEMS like im just out here complaining about problems that are completely within my power to solve if only i had, idk, properly working executive functioning???? i dont want to have to have someone hold my hand to walk me through what i need to do. but my stupid shit brain doesn't know how to do it by itself apparently, at least not without way more mental effort than it should take!

also i guess i usually just look for Executive Functioning Help from whatever friends I'm talking to the most often at a given point in time and the problem there is that

in times such as Now when all of said friends are busy i still dont super...feel like asking other friends for the same help? so then im just stuck even though it's not like those are the only friends i have. idk why that is. why dont i feel comfortable pursuing that even if i know it might be a helpful solution?

oh oh wait i think i know why it's because i dont want to suddenly just appear after a while of not talking to someone at all, just to be like "hi listen to me vent and struggle with basic tasks"

cuz that seems hella selfish to, again, expect that of someone when im not even like...keeping up mutual conversation with them y'know?

but i kind of feel like if i keep this shit up it's gonna drive all my friends away and then i wont have any and ill be stuck on my own

and idk, maybe then would my brain get its goddamn act together? it's not going to just magically cure the executive dysfunction. :(

but would it give me the motivation I'd need to, idk, try harder to find better ways to deal with it? also dont know.

ughhhh i can tell im kiiiinda spiralling into self-deprecation again but i guess im still not totally convinced that i dont deserve it or that it won't push me to get my shit together if im just mean enough to myself 👉👉

[letstalksymphogear]

Symphogear, Ep. 6 (Cont.)

Hibiki, having seen a horror upon horrors, immediately asks Tsubasa if she’s okay. Tsubasa points out she’s a hospital patient, why would you ask this question, you insensitive prick. Hibiki points to the following scene:

Now, you may be asking yourself. “How does a formerly comatose person who is now bedridden on an IV drip manage to do this much damage?” Simply put, Tsubasa has a very chaotic aura. She doesn’t even have to take stuff out of her room; the places she goes to just naturally wind up like this. It’s a metaphor for how much of an absolute mess this person is simply by existing.

“l-look i just- its hard to organize things and- im more of a visual person and-”

“BITCH YOU LIVE LIKE THIS?”

Hibiki unwittingly gets her revenge on Tsubasa. She doesn’t realize it, but her lecturing Tsubasa on what an absolute mess every facet of her life is could possibly be heralded as her lowest point in the entire series.

No, wait. Thinking about it now, this is her second lowest. We won’t see her lowest until GX comes along.

“hibiki, every single bone in my body is broken, you dont have to break my pride too”

Hibiki, being an absolute darling, actually picks up Tsubasa’s mess. This is more than she can say about her own messes.

“haha, miku usually does this for me! wait- wait a minute.”

“i dont get it. i tried to kill you. i tormented and ignored you. i refused to help you for months. i failed to train you on any facet of combat as your senior. i nearly let you get kidnapped and, failing that, nearly killed myself while making you watch, which ALSO didnt help you not get kidnapped aside from scaring the shit out of that weird lady. why are you... helping me?”

“because either we’re going to be very good friends or im going to toss you out the window personally!”

“oh god, that aggression screams kanade. i cant not like her.”

Absolutely annihilated. Just kick her while she’s down in her Taco Bell spiral of humiliation and self-discovery, Hibiki.

“it’s okay, tsubasa! you may be a terminal dumbass, but im sure if we all work together, we can share our braincells and become collectively smarter, for each other!”

“interesting theory. how many ya got?”

“ZERO!”

They trade the kind of banter two people with 0 brain cells would have and then Tsubasa points out Hibiki is doing a great job in her place.

“hey hey HEY HOLD THE PHONE IVE LEARNED MY LESSON IM NOT TRYING TO REPLACE YOU OKAY IM NOT YOU, IM JUST HIBIKI, DOING HER JOB, ALRIGHT”

Meanwhile, in the library, Miku is looking at books, as she does what she says she’s gonna do, unlike a certain other person cavorting with cute idols.

“The Gay Way: How to Get Your Same Sex Relationship Back On Track, by Dr. Lesbe Honest. wow, this one is right up my alley.”

Okay, I’m gonna be honest with you. I literally forgot they show you the title in this. Imagine my face when I made up that title on the spot only to be hit with this little number. Holy shit, Symphogear. There’s this thing called subtlety. I’m begging you. We get it.

OH, AND IT GETS BETTER, BECAUSE

THE AUTHOR OF THE BOOK IS THE WRITER OF THE SHOW

IT’S LITERALLY GOT HIS NAME ON IT

THIS IS THE EQUIVALENT OF WRITING A STORY AND THEN INSERTING A BOOK CALLED “LEARN THE PLOT” WRITTEN BY YOU, IN UNIVERSE

KANEKO STOP THIS BALONEY, PLEASE

AND LIKE FUCKING CLOCKWORK SHE JUST- SHE TURNS HER HEAD AWAY FROM THE BOOK TITLED “THIS IS THE PLOT MOTIF” BY “AUTHOR” AND THEN FUCKING

SHE CONVENIENTLY LOOKS OVER TO THE DISTANCE

AND SHE SEES HIBIKI WITH THE HOT IDOL MIKU WAS INTO, THAT THEY WERE BOTH A FAN ON, AND SHE’S JUST CHILLING THERE AND MIKU WAS TOLD HIBIKI’S ON SERIOUS BUSINESS

AND THE HOSPITAL QUARTERS ARE SOMEHOW CONVENIENTLY CONNECTED TO THE FUCKING LIBRARY ON FULL DISPLAY BECAUSE GOD KNOWS EVERYONE IN A LIBRARY HAS TO WATCH SICK PEOPLE DIE IN REAL TIME

AND NOW MIKU IS THINKING “OH MY FUCKING GOD IM BEING CHEATED ON” AND HER FEELINGS ARE HURT FOR THIS TOTALLY CONTRIVED FUCKING COINCIDENCE

AND SHE’S ALL “BOO HOO HOO I’VE BEEN NTR’D! THIS WAS A CUCKING PLOT THIS WHOLE TIME! WOE IS ME!” FUCK YOU. THIS IS THE WORST. THIS IS ABSOLUTE GARBAGE WHY WOULD YOU- WHY DO YOU EVEN NEED TO SET THIS UP? THERE’S SO MANY BETTER WAYS TO DO THIS!

AND SHE’S JUST STARING BACK AT THE BOOK WRITTEN BY THE SAME ASSHOLE WHO WROTE THIS ENTIRE DAMN SCENARIO IN THE FIRST PLACE, AN EVIL GOD MOCKING HIS SUBJECTS IN THE FACE OF SCRUTINY FOR DRAMA WITH THE MOST CLICHE LOVE NOTES IN A GODDAMNED SOAP OPERA

AND HIBIKI IS NONE

THE

FUCKING

WISER

SYMPHOGEAR SURE IS GREAT, HUH? I SURE DO LOVE SYMPHOGEAR WITH ALLLLLL MY HEART. WHAT A WELL WRITTEN MASTERPIECE! FUCKING BELONGS IN THE FUCKING MOMA!!!!!

Okay. Okay. Let’s get that out of our system. The worst is over. This is the, uh, crescendo of the bad side plot as it inevitably sets itself on the road to resolution. I’m not going to have an aneurysm. My brain is not going to split itself in half. We’re good. I swear, we’re good.

Tsubasa, meanwhile, wants to understand why Hibiki fights, wrestling with the Da Vinci code that is her own emotions. She points out the fight against the Noise isn’t a game, and it ain’t no comic book bullshit either. It’s real, it’s out there, and it’s not pretty yet easily marketable as cute mascots. And what does our protagonist say? No making it up, she literally says:

“i dunno”

Not a damn brain cell in her body, but props for keeping it real. I’d likely say the same thing.

This is the face of someone currently sucking air through their teeth at the raw frustration that someone would be dumb enough to risk their life for the sake of only helping others.

“listen. im gonna keep it real here. i suck at literally everything. math. social studies. writing. helping people is all i have, because its not a competition. you just... you do it. you dont get better at helping people, you just help. like, thats it. i dunno what else to tell you.”

Then Hibiki points out that she feels it all started with Kanade saving her, and the speech implies its a ‘pay it forward’ sort of affair. She was saved, and so she should save others. Unfortunately, it comes off more as a guilt complex. “I lived, and I feel bad about that, so I gotta save everyone else” kind of stuff.

“its my coping mechanism for my countless traumas!”

“i get it now. you’re just as much of a mess as i am. you just dont show it as much. that kinda thinking’s gonna get you killed.”

Tsubasa then correctly points out that it is a kind of survivor’s guilt, where she wants to be released from the pain of old wounds, completely unaware of the irony of her statement.

“yeah. i get ya. we’re both wrecks. but... we can be wrecks working together.”

This would be the part where she says I’M SORRY but apparently we just don’t fucking do apologies in Symphogear, huh? Too good for ‘em, eh?! God.

Then they go outside and talk more about stuff and Durandal. The summation:

“do you have the capacity to live a life forever kicking ass?”

“yeah”

Hibiki, coming to terms with how she wants to deal with shit, manages to sharpen (haw) her resolve as to who she is and how she uses her abilities.

Meanwhile...

“i cant believe hibiki is having an affair with an attractive idol popstar. especially my favorite one from their old band. not only is she cheating on me, but she’s cheating on me from one of the five people on my lists id immediately get with if i had the chance. it feels like a double betrayal. a real life one, and a fantasy one... why do i find this weirdly hot...?”

“HEY NEWCOMER WELCOME TO THE CUCK AND BUCK WHERE WE SELL FRESHLY FRIED CUCKS FOR ONE BUCK, REAL EASY, REAL CHEAP, GOOD OL’ FASHIONED JAPANESE SOULFOOD”

“ive come to take my throne. i’ll take the ‘one flew over the cuckoo’s nest” and have the three eggs over easy with the ‘easy sleazy pancakes’”

“make it an extra lonely helping. this is gonna be a long afternoon.”

“ahhh. a freshly cucked newcomer coming to the cuck and buck to duck amongst their bad luck run amok, huh?”

“listen dont sass me about my busy girlfriend with your dr. seuss antics just gimmie the food and lets get this over with”

“no problem! sorry, they just come easy. it’s hard to buck at the cuck and buck when rhymes you huck make you wanna fu-”

“FOOD. NOW.”

Miku then ponders about how her feelings may have spiraled from a process of over thinking, or possibly hunger. Maybe both. Maybe Hibiki isn’t cheating on her. Maybe the reasons are more complicated than she knows. She briefly contemplates communication; a futile gesture when it is Hibiki safeguarding a secret she is forced to keep for incredibly stupid reasons.

“thanks for the food, miss. it really helped sort my feelings out.”

“no probs, kid. here at the cuck and buck, the only thing we cuck here is... our hearts.”

Meanwhile, Hibiki is still hanging with Tsubasa. Hey, if you’re gonna hang out with a critically acclaimed popstar, might as well squeeze every minute out of it, right?

“so... taco bell, huh? im surprised you actually like taco bell now. maybe you just like fast food styled psuedo-mexican restraunts? have you tried chipotle?”

“i... maybe you’re right, actually. i’ve grown to love taco bell, but... maybe i should expand my horizons. kanade did say... singing makes you hungry. maybe thats what she meant. i should take to new life experiences...”

“yeah! i can take you to all the good fast food places i know!”

“dont you have a girlfriend?”

“she can join us! she’s a big fan of you after all!”

“hey- hey wait! m- more friends? more... more friends... more friends.....”

“more friends...”

Meanwhile, a crisis develops.

Chris, having heard the f-word (friendship), is heading immediately to do the exact opposite of this.

She’s taken some pointers from Tsubasa, t-posing to assert dominance.

“how the fuck is she even flying”

“i cant wait to tell hibiki how much i love and appreciate her despite the weird NTR aura surrounding this whole situation”

“yeah, that’s right! i’m meeting the Gremlin in the park for an asskicking, don’t worry!”

“oh, speak of the devil! hibiki! i love and appreciate you despite the weird ntr auras!”

“miku- wait. oh no. i saw this happen in sam reimi’s spiderman 3. im fucked.”

“YOU GUESSED CORRECTLY, PIDGEON BANGS”

I know I’ve joked about homewrecking, but this is ridiculous.

Chris realizes there’s someone else around she may have potentially hurt. This is surprising, given murder is not something she has shyed away from, but she’s slowly climbing that ladder of morality, so cut her some slack for taking it one rung at a time.

“im losing my girl. losing my grip. now im about to lose my life. this NTR business truly is the worst.”

Chris has accidentally employed the Dio Brando style of disposing of people, which consists of throwing a vehicle and smashing them until dead.

“you’ve taken one step too close to my heartstrings, Gremlin, and for that you’re about to understand the full definition of an ass kicking.”

Hibiki fucking punches the car. Everything is forgiven in this episode for now.

“i... hibiki... are you... a street fighter character? holy shit. oh my god. hibiki oh my god you’re a street fighter character. thats been the true problem here. you’re a street fighter character now. oh my god. cheating? how could i have thought cheating was involved? you were literally just becoming a straight up superhero! oh my god. the abs! the washboard abs! the signs were all around me! the only thing you went to do behind my back was kick ass!”

“i’m sorry. i need to go kick ass now.”

The good news is all that tension just got evaporated. Miku sorta gets the truth now: her girlfriend hasn’t been cheating on her, she’s just been trying to save the local tri-county area from the grips of inter-dimensional alien eldritch entities controlled by a Gremlin and her Mistress. It’s a lot to take in, though.

These two are about to fight head to head. Last time, Hibiki was but the pupil. Now, she is the Master.

“can’t touch me, goldie locks. lemme do you a favor and CRACK THAT WHIP!”

“oh my god hibiki’s gonna fight that weird looking person”

“naruto running deeper into the woods isn’t gonna stop me from beating your ass senseless, fists for brains”

“thats because i wanna talk, asshole”

“wait. wait, what? you... you want to talk? to me?”

Hibiki proceeds to aggressively describe herself to her. Name, identity, blood type, age, the works. This is because she’s trying to befriend her, because Hibiki feels fighting people is bad, and that talking is more useful than fighting. This is a recipe for suicide, normally, but in this instance...

“what in the goddamn hell... i... um... nice.. to meet you...?”

Hibiki deploys a counter-T-Pose to show kinship, feeling that they don’t have to fight like this since they’re not Noise.

“talk may be cheap but it’ll make kicking your ass all the more easier, nerd”

Chris learns this, in fact, does not make the ass kicking all the more easier. Hibiki’s fresh new moves manage to dodge whip after whip of Chris’s attacks, and it’s really starting to annoy her a lot.

“pain in the ass. so you learned how to fight, huh? fine. you’ll tire out eventually.”

“let’s just talk, seriously! or maybe we can bond over board games-”

“i FUCKING hate board games. the fuck are you, a grandma? just fight already! people cant understand each other anyway!”

“JUST DIE ALREADY!”

“i was told to kidnap you. but im exerting a loophole today; no one told me to do it alive”

“the only kidnapping going down is me, sleeping in on a thursday afternoon forgetting class exists, you neon porcupine. so come at me. can’t kick me ass if you dont come any closer, right?”

“WITH PLEASURE!”

“ive watched the entirety of dragonball z, i know exactly how this fight’s gonna go down”

“finally. looks like i got y- hey, wait, what?”

“ARE YOU ABSOLUTELY JANKING MY LEG? THIS BITCH IS LITERALLY GOKU? PULLING KAMEHAMEHAS AND SHIT? WHY? god. its me. yukine chris. why do you hate me. why do you drag me through all this shit only to be hit in the head with some real anime baloney. why. please. have some mercy.”

“i dont know what a goku is but sure, yeah, why not”

“im going to kill her. oh my god. she doesnt even know who goku is.”

“get that tentacle shit away from me. im not fucking around anymore. we’re going to have a heart to heart whether you like it or not!”

“oh shit she found my weakness. really close melee combat.”

“MADE A FRIENDSHIP GIFT FOR YA. IT’S A FRESHLY MADE KNUCKLE SANDWICH, STRAIGHT FROM THE DELI”

“OH GOD, PLEASE, NOT MY FACE”

“REQUEST ACCEPTED, PAL”

Hibiki punched her so hard that she physically destroyed the entire armor Chris was wearing in a single blow.

“she... she doesnt punch ME like that... i mean, probably because she loves me, but..”

“did... did she just kill that person...? hibiki...? you, uh... you alright...?”

[what-stop-the-presses-rly-means]

hi im sorry to bother u but are u doing the ship thing for bmc and deh? im a massive maths geek and super messy even tho i try to keep things neat. Im pan yee haw but im like 5'10'' which is pretty tall for a girl yeet anyway um i like long walks and i couldnt live without my piano. Im a massive theatre kid and i love singing and playing musical theatre songs but i dont do many shows bc anxiety yee haw but id love to perform. i make weird references which only make sense to my rlly close friends

Don't ever be afraid of bothering me, hun. I love doing these 😊 Also, yes I'm always doing ships for BMC, DEH, and Newsies

Also, tumblr is stupid and this is the 3rd time I'm attempting to post this so hopefully it goes through

BMC:

I ship you with Rich!

Keep in mind this is post-Squip Rich. We don't see much of him but I believe he's a good mix of nerdy and cool, which means he'd have enough confidence to talk to you, but once he saw how pretty you were up close he'd start stuttering

But as soon as you guys got talking he would be attached like, "Yep, this is one of my people. I need them in my life right away."

He's such a competitive nerd. He would try to challenge you to a mathlete-esque competition and is blown away by how smart you are

That's probably how he asks you out. "I need to keep you around for as long as possible so I can train and finally beat you!"

He's envious of your amazing singing skills and is afraid to sing, himself, because of his speech impediment, but you encourage him to do it if it makes him happy. And it does

He'll come up behind you while you're playing piano and wrap his arms around you. He'll sing softly with a big smile on his face because he hasn't sung in years and he feels so safe and secure around you. Ugh! 😢

He doesn't care if you're messy, though he will give you shit for it. "Damn girl, you live like this?" He has an endless supply of memes on hand. What a nerd

People would definitely make fun of the drastic height difference but you guys will just join in. "Hey, Strawberry SHORTcake!" "Sup, Jolly Green Giant!"

DEH:

I ship you with Evan!

When you meet him he's probably working on something his therapist suggested, like doing one thing outside of his comfort zone everyday. So he stayed after school one day, probably for some environmental club or something, and he hears you playing piano so he stops to listen

You pack up to leave and catch him staring. He panics and very quickly explains that he liked your music and thinks you're very talented

He has pretty massive social anxiety so your dates would mostly consist of hikes and nature walks, away from people and city life

Speaking of anxiety, he would totally understand when you can't do things because of it. He never judges you when you back out of auditioning for something

But if you ever do have a performance he gets so excited. He brings you flowers every single time and tells you just how proud he is of you

He would help you clean your room (because big messes sometimes trigger his anxiety) and turn it into a game, throwing clothes into baskets and trash into the bin for 2 points each. Something he always did with his mom as a kid. It's super cute seeing him try to beat you even though he has no coordination

If he ever starts spiraling (which is often), all you have to do is play a soft, calming song on the piano and he relaxes immediately, sitting next to you with his head on your shoulder, whispering, "Thank you."

You would help tutor him sometimes and everytime he got a problem right he would look so shocked and get so happy. He hugs you everytime. "I can't believe I'm with someone as smart as you."

Ugh these two are so cute! Thanks!

[gardenplow3-blog]

Reading Recap: October 2018

At the end of every month, I take a look back at my reading journal and share the books and my thoughts on them here. The comments below are excerpts from my full reviews on Goodreads; you can always keep up with my reading in real-time over there.

The books I read in October were all over the place—a lyrical, lovely historical novel; a thrilling fantasy-adventure; a collection of moody short stories of the English countryside; two dark and spooky novels, an elegant investigation with Miss Phryne Fisher—plus two thoroughly engrossing audiobooks.

I’m still thinking about the Tiger’s Wife.

In fact, I gave it 4 1/2 stars, but maybe it’s 5. Maybe it will eventually be bumped to my all-time favorites list because I keep thinking about it.

The Tiger’s Wife by Téa Obreht | 4 1/2 stars I don’t want to give too much away about the events of this book because the way it unspools as you read is so… perfect. And it’s a difficult book to explain because it’s definitely a novel, but it’s also a collection of beautifully told, interconnected stories.

The basics are in the flap copy: Natalia is a young doctor in an unnamed Balkan country; from the descriptions, you can sort of figure out that it’s Serbia. She’s dealing with the aftermath of the civil wars when her beloved grandfather dies. As she’s trying to understand the circumstances surrounding his death, she tells stories: about herself, about her grandfather and retells stories that he’s told her… about a magical tiger and the tiger’s wife. As Natalia eventually learns, the stories her grandfather has been telling her are not fairy tales, but true stories of his life and the other villagers in Galina. Just as her grandfather’s youth was shaped by war, so was Natalia’s and her reality as a teenager during the Balkan wars echo the fable-like stories of his past.

This books takes you directly into Balkan villages—to WWI, WWII, as well as the fraught 1990s—and casts a spell while it explores the different kinds of love, secrets and dreams, the way the fallout of war spirals from the past into the present.

Favorite highlight: “Like everyone in the village, he had faith in the rituals of superstition. He gave money to beggars before traveling, put pennies in the shrines of the Virgin at crossroads, spat on his children when they were born. But, unlike his fellow villagers, he was renowned for having a deficit. He had been born in a lean year, without a ducat under his pillow. To make matters worse, an estranged aunt had once allegedly lifted him from his crib and praised heaven for what a beautiful baby, what a gorgeous, fat, blessed, rosy child he was—forever sealing his destiny to be impoverished, crippled, struck down and taken by the devil at some unexpected time, in some terrifying way.”

European Travel for the Monstrous Gentlewoman by Theodora Goss | 4 stars This is a rollicking adventure with lots of feels thrown in along the way, which is my very favorite kind of story. It picks up where The Strange Case of the Alchemist’s Daughter left off. Our five kickass heroines, aka, The Athena Club—all the offspring of literary characters who are… SURPRISE!… real people in this alternate version of London—are off on a mission to rescue Lucinda Van Helsing from an insane asylum. The action involves, in no particular order, a daring asylum escape, sleeper cars on the Orient Express, hiding in a traveling circus, crashing a meeting of the Alchemical Society, and eating cake in the art nouveau cafes of Budapest. I love the Saturday-afternoon-serial feel of the narrative—coupled with lovely writing and characters I want to spend my time getting to know.

There are genuine emotions here among all the action, too. The girls, all technically monsters in their own way, struggle with their humanity and wrestle with what it means to do the right thing, how to find balance between toughness and tenderness, and making peace with themselves and the found-family they’ve formed together.

This would be a fantastic read-along with Dracula because there are plenty of smart, sly references to that novel. I read them back-to-back unintentionally, and it was a brilliant experience.

Favorite highlight: “If you have been up all night, escaping from a burning mental asylum or fighting men who refuse to die when you shoot them in the forehead, or both, coffee is the perfect beverage.”

Help the Witch by Tom Cox | 4 stars This is a collection of short stories from one of my favorite nonfiction writers. Tom Cox is the author of books about cats that are not books about cats—they’re about nature and living in the country and the power of walking and family and basically everything that makes life good. Now he’s written a collection of spooky and eerie, unsettling—not scary—stories that put you right there in the moody Peak District of central England. The writing on his web site is also brilliant.

Favorite highlight: “Outside, the dark is very dark. But in the day, the whiteness is very dark too, sometimes ever darker.”

Melmoth by Sarah Perry | 3 1/2 stars I’ve been thinking about this book since I turned the last page, and here’s where I’ve landed: It has a perfectly spooky gothic tone that I was super into. Throughout there’s some very moody, supernatural-ish stuff going on that was spine-tingly. I read this book in one day because I couldn’t put it down. It was an ignore-everything marathon of reading because I needed to know how it would all play out.

This novel is a series of stories told by different characters about the darkest times in their lives, and the stories they share are DARK, but not in the virginal-maiden-locked-in-a-castle way. They’re dark in a peoples’-lives-were-ruined way that was not fun at all. It was horribly sad. And I feel like that kind of serious subject matter is in direct contrast with the isn’t-it-spooky tone of the novel. Ultimately, I found the whole thing really depressing and when I closed the book, I was sorry that I’d devoted an entire day to it. But it’s so well crafted and well plotted, I feel like a jerk with my criticisms.

And there you have it. I still don’t really know how I feel about this book except that I for-sure won’t be reading it again. But also, I will never forgot some of its scenes.

Favorite highlight: “The Silence is something more than the absence of noise. If it is possible to hear silence, Helen hears it: a thick, soft sensation against the drums of her ears.”

Urn Burial by Kerry Greenwood | 4 stars I adore Phryne Fisher—in print and in the TV series ‘Miss Fisher’s Murder Mysteries—because she’s a super feminist and her politics—and the politics of the book—are very progressive. The juxtaposition of 1920s slang and fashion with ultra-modern opinions is irresistible, and I cannot resist a found-family. Phryne has created a lovely family for herself with her assistant Dot and her housekeepers, Mr and Mrs Butler. In this particular book, there’s a murder at a manor house, which is like catnip for me: lots of listening through doors, scampering to lovers’ bedrooms in the middle of the night, forced cocktail hour… it’s fab.

Favorite highlight: “It took determination to be really strange. That, or absinthe before breakfast every day.”

The Witch Elm by Tana French | 3 stars I think Tana French is excellent at what she does—I couldn’t put this down because I needed to know what was going to happen, and I had no idea how it was all going to resolve itself. Really, the writing craft should get 5 stars.

But man! this was really not for me. Even though I compulsively turned the pages, I didn’t enjoy the experience or the characters at all. The only character I liked died.  I thought everyone else was horrible: duplicitous, selfish, whiny, untrustworthy. I am grateful I don’t know people like this in real life, and I don’t enjoy spending time with them, even if it’s pretend and on paper.

Favorite highlight: “Hugo’s road has that effect; it gives the impression of being there only on alternate Thursday or to people with they mysterious talisman in their pockets, invisible the rest of the time and instantly forgotten when you leave.”

Dracula by Bram Stoker (audiobook) | 5 stars

I’m a sucker for epistolary novels, so before even opening the pages the first time I read this book, I was pretty much on board. Then when I got to know Mina and Jonathan, Dr. Seward and Van Helsing—I was smitten. This is a big, sweeping adventure story, and although it was published in 1897, it’s surprisingly modern. Unlike, say, the Brontës, which require a little work sometimes to get through the prose, this is very readable and the action moves at a good clip. But it’s not all desperate carriage rides and stake stabbings; there are a lot of genuine emotional moments in this book, and I love the way Mina turns out to be the heroine of the whole enterprise.

This audiobook version is fantastic. The voice work is very compelling and really brings the story to life.

Favorite highlight: “It is a strange world, a sad world, a world full of miseries, and woes, and troubles. And yet when King Laugh come, he make them all dance to the tune he play. Bleeding hearts, and dry bones of the churchyard, and tears that burn as they fall, all dance together to the music that he make with that smileless mouth of him. Ah, we men and women are like ropes drawn tight with strain that pull us different ways. Then tears come, and like the rain on the ropes, they brace us up, until perhaps the strain become too great, and we break. But King Laugh he come like the sunshine, and he ease off the strain again, and we bear to go on with our labor, what it may be.”

The Shadow Land by Elizabeth Kostova (audiobook) | 5 stars I’ve read this book in print at least once, maybe twice? And I loved it for the reasons the NYTimes review didn’t… the beginning, before it gets into the heart of the story from the past, is a travelogue/love letter to Bulgaria—and that voice is part of what I loved so much about Elizabeth Kostova’s first book The Historian. This one has so many things I love: a mystery, foreign travel, a little romance, the love of a found-family, things that are not what they seem, shocking revelations over food, and regular people following mysterious clues to dangerous conclusions. At every moment I thought, “This is exactly what it would be like if *I* found myself caught up in a mystery” and since I’m always secretly hoping that will happen, I loved this story. There are plenty of surprises—I actually gasped a few times and shed a few tears. The big reveals aren’t obvious, but when they happened, I was, like, “Oh, yeah… that makes sense.”

The voice acting in this audiobook is awesome. Each character gets its own voice and is immediately recognizable. This is particularly effective when a character tells a story from the past—the accents, the aging voices, the emotion… it’s lush and moving and all-together engrossing.

Favorite highlight: “Always thinking. Thinking too much, and then sometimes not enough. You read a lot of books, yes?”

FIND ALL THESE BOOKS AND MORE IN MY AMAZON STORE!

What have you been reading recently?

Source: https://meljoulwan.com/2018/11/29/reading-recap-october-2018/

[preciadosbass]

17/8/24 [2X DIYS!! draft from yesterday — key + significant photos at end]

woke up at 4 because i got mixed up last night regarding the bootsale and thought it was today. i soon realised that my dad agreed to take me tomorrow, so i went back to sleep. i slept on and off, and actually woke up at 8:40. when i woke up, i scrolled on emo/sceneblr and saw that ronnie radke streamed and i missed it :’[ - i attatched pictures of my DIY’s and stuff to the upcoming weekly recap and went through a few more drafts. i spent quite a lot of time just on socials and looking through pinterest so i finally got round to doing something at 10:50. i saved a spiderweb made out of wire in my DIY pinterest board yesterday and wanted to try. i then put on the ronnie radke stream for something to listen to in the backround. i tried for ages to make it look cool, but it’s safe to say, i failed miserably. so i decided to make a bracelet instead. i used plain black elastic and these rainbow-black beads that smell of metal [i don’t know how to explain the colour, you’ll see in the photo at the end]

once i was done [11:20] i painted a few more rocks. i attempted to make one with multiple sharks on, then a single great white, a fish skeleton, and just a spiral patterned rock. the multiple shark one was an utter disaster and i messed up the spiral rock with black paint but it sort of looks textured now so i’m not devastated about it. i just don’t think anyone else will be able to look at it and not think it’s the ugliest thing they’ve ever seen in their life because i can’t see through its ugliness either. they’re all incredibly imperfect but i honestly prefer things when they’re messy. i still am a perfectionist though, if that makes sense. i only like certain things to be scruffy, like my patch stitching, or painting, or sometimes physical writing. anyway, i think i’ll keep the great white and fish skeleton one, i’ll probably paint over the spiral it’s literally atrocious. while doing this, the ronnie [radke] stream ended so i started listening to sky eats aeroplane and get scared. i finished doing the rocks at 12:12, counting the time i waited for the paint to dry. [photo at end]

afterwards i went outside with boris from 12:20 to 1:50 when i got dressed. while i was out there a few horses came by and the people riding them were shouting about something or another. today i wore this low cut black + checkered shirt that used to be my mums, black ripped skinny jeans, knee high converse, a studded belt, a taxidermy scorpion necklace, a taxidermy silver fox tail [with a barn owl keychain attatched], gray + black striped arm warmers sleeping with sirens bracelet, long spiked cuff bracelet, the new bracelet id made, mcr bracelet, can tab bracelet, and a panic! at the disco bracelet. [photos at end]

today me, my parents and my sister were going to a party. i dont know or anyone remembers or if anyone reads my journals to know, but quite a while ago my neighbour that id never met before invited me and my family to his wife’s birthday party. upon getting there, two random women started speaking about how much i’d grown up but i swear i’ve never been around them before haha. i noticed a girl playing with the younger children in the huge garden and thought she looked epic. she had dark purple roots and her neck was decorated in gothic jewellery. she also had a couple of piercings but i couldn’t see what type because of the distance i was from her. i got frustrated because i knew that i wouldn’t have the confidence to even compliment her and both of my parents seemed to think she was at least in her 20s. while i was speaking to my dad about approaching her, she walked away from the kids and came up to me.

she said she loved my outfit and that i reminded her of her younger self. she also asked what bands im into but i’m terrible at listening things off the top of my head so i scrolled through a bit of my playlist and showed her. she mentioned loving mcr. while doing so, her friend walked over. she hyped up my playlist and the alt girl asked how old i am. i told her mine, and she said her age back. [shes currently 19, i’m going to assume the other friend is around the same age/the same age] i also asked if she’d seen any live bands, she said yes but didn’t name anything in particular. however she did mention that she’s also going to see slipknot in december!! not at the same venue as me, though.

afterwards she asked if i wanted to come up to the bar and get a drink with them both. i said i already had a drink over at my chair and they encouraged me to follow them anyways. once they’d gotten their drinks, we all sat on a beanbag next to a fountain in the garden. they took out cigarettes and J [the alt girl, the other one i think is still alt but dosent dress in a way that’d give it off] started asking about school and if i have any alt friends. i told her and N [the other girl] that i’m not in school or technically being homeschooled, and told them a little bit about my social life. we all just talked about how hard it is to be alt/have any kind of alt mindset in school [or in general] and how ruthless people can be. J also showed me some pictures of her in secondary.

N was already pretty drunk [i assume, or she might’ve had bad memory] and kept on forgetting about me not going to school. they were both the loveliest people i’ve ever come across and i was literally ecstatic. i think they were both glad i came across them as well considering they related to not having any alt freinds at some point and how lonely it can feel. J kept on making sure i was okay with them drinking/smoking and asked if she was being a bad influence. i honestly don’t mind what people do around me, so. THEY WERE SO NICE AA I CANT BELIEVE I MET THEM!!!!

it started getting colder outside as the sky got darker and the music was super loud so J invited me to come up to her room with N. turns out that J is the grandchild of my neighbours. she lives in scotland, but comes down quite often to meet up with family. as for N, she lives in the same town as the grandad i last saw, where i got my evanescence and avril cd. before going upstairs, they both got another drink and once again, asked if i wanted anything. i haven’t really had alcohol in large amounts before so i said it would be cool to try vodka/coca cola. they asked if i was sure and we went up to get our drinks. after we made our way up to J’s room and all sat on her bed. we just spoke about random stuff while i tried getting used to my drink [i haven’t had vodka before i’m a loser i know]. J started playing some screamo/metal music but i didn’t get the opportunity to ask what band it was. [8:45pm]

we spoke about random stuff, more about what it’s like to have alt friends, cool alt clubs i could go to when i’m 18, that i can text/game with either of them if i’d like, and we exchanged instagrams. i didn’t get N’s but she said for me to ask J’s for it when i text her at home. this whole night i smiled more than i have in at least a year, not even overreacting. the last time i can remember being so full of just every positive emotion was when i got boris/my late cat, riley. and we got boris 4 years ago. N started getting the munchies and J suggested i should get something to eat because of me drinking. we went downstairs to the kitchen and J got be some crisps. she opened up about past eating issues while we were upstairs so she already knew that i’m nervy about eating too.

while we were there, this younger boy, one of the children that J and N were playing with earlier started filling a toy truck with popcorn and delivering it to people. meanwhile, J and N spoke to these other two girls. i’m pretty sure J mentioned that they’re her cousins, and that N is also really close with her family. i let them speak and we sat in the kitchen eating for a while. what we did after this is kind of a blur as this was when i was starting to get drowsy, but i’m almost certain we went back outside after eating. the music was somewhat louder and they were playing more singalong tracks. J and N got up on the dance floor bit [which is actually a really cool pateo, the floor is originally from a cobble road in london and my neighbour got it taken out and put in his garden.]

they were playing pitbull, oasis, kings of leon, the killers, etc. J could sense that i didn’t know what to do and didn’t want to watch them because that’d be weird, so she consensually pulled me up onto the dance floor. she put my hand in hers and we danced together. for oasis and the killers [possibly more, i cant remember] all of us, me, J and N danced together and interlocked arms/hands. i don’t think i’d ever felt that free or comfy in myself. like, i danced.. in front of tons of total strangers. i danced for what felt like forever [in a good way, i was loving it. i also don’t know if this is odd to say concidering our age difference, even though i only mean it in a platonic way, but it was nice to be held hands with and included with activities. i haven’t willingly engaged in any kind of physical touch in years [literally] as i really struggle with it and a few other things. but yeah, it felt really nice to be comforted by the holding of hands + dancing.]

all of us were leaning into eachother and swaying our hair and shaking our heads whenever any kind of beat dropped. we’d all come closer to eachother and sing at one another. after definitely over an hour of dancing and singing our hearts out, we were understandingly exhausted so J and N sat down on the outside chairs and smoked some more. we sat mostly in silence, while talking about how nice tonight had been/how fun dancing was [etc] every now and then. the music finishes and people started to pack up, so my parents signalled for us to head off. at this point, my sister had gone home absolutely ages ago to game with her friends. which is good in a way because otherwise she would’ve followed me around/found out about me drinking/and possibly told someone. shes reliable with secrets until she’s not, kind of thing.

we said our goodbyes, hugged and then walked across the side of the road home. we got back at approximately 12:20 and i attempted to process how much fun id had and the fact that i literally made FRIENDS. TWO FRIENDS. i’m quite literally overjoyed. and super excited to see them again. J’s mum seemed to like me and she [J] said that we’ll be able to meet up again, hopefully decently soon. i watched a patrick stump X pete wentz interview, had a 15 minute nap, and asked my questions about boris at 1 after my sister had gone to sleep. me and my mum got into an argument again [we usually do, it’s not really ever me and my dad that have a full on argument.] she got mad at me because she slipped up and said something implying that boris won’t be the slightest bit okay tomorrow so i freaked and started sobbing.

i finically finished at about 3 and cried over how loud and angry my mum was at me up until roughly 3:20. i shouldn’t really have been overwhelmed/sad concidering how much of a success the party ended up being, but i was just so terrified that boris wouldn’t be okay/awake in the morning and my mum wasn’t making it any better. i appreciate how annoying all of this is for the both of them, but she refused to try and understand/address my concern even after me explaining and my dad going through it aswell. she knows how paranoid i am over boris and she just ultimately told me she didn’t care [not exact words] and that i was trying to make myself scared/feel bad.

once coming downstairs, i tried to calm myself down, got undressed into my onesie, did my teeth, and then said goodnight to boris. i did this quite ‘late’ as i had to wait until id completely stopped crying because boris sometimes gets scared over the sound of crying/sniffling. i finished saying goodnight to him at nearly 4am. before i was about to go to sleep, boris welcomed himself into my room and crawled inside my clothing drawers. i started to get worried as i heard scratching and he wasn’t coming out, but he did soon enough and let me fuss him for a bit while he ate, before i got into bed. i went to sleep at 4:10 and eliminated the thought of even trying to write a bit of my journal as i was so tired. [that’s why this is draft, sorry lol]

🗝️ — boris/my cat, questions [about boris]/i ask my parents questions about my cat to verify he’s okay + will be okay in the morning. its a compulsive thing and i’m hopefully going to be tested for OCD in the future.

have a good day/night O_o

[taylornock]

I waited 19 years for lollapalooza

its wednesday, and three nights ago - on sunday august 4th, the last performance of the lollapalooza festival weekend had just wrapped up; a beautiful concert by the female pop queen Miss Ariana Grande.

music has basically always been a HUGE part of my life; ever since my cousins showed me the fateful X factor videos of one direction that they had no idea would spiral into an unhealthy obsession of many years with 5 british boys who will never know my name or face. but that story deserves a whole nuther post!

i simply cannot imagine what the world would be like without the power of music. it is on literally everywhere, in every store + restaurant, in every car you step into, and playing in the streets of crowded cities with every breath of air you take outside. music is so common and so present in life that the mere idea of silence drives me up a wall; i have no appreciation for silence and almost always need music at least in the background so that silence is not so haunting as i make it out to be. i am blessed to live in a generation where if i want to hear a song, its not like i need to haul my ass over to the jukebox and dig for coins to hear it; i can crack open my AirPods…. (soft flex) case and queue it up on spotify in like, 20 seconds. sorry, i cant hear you was that someone poor speaking? (kidding)  as i said, i hate silence so much even cleaning my room is too much for me without some track playing even if i have heard it 300 times over.

the trend and infatuation with celebrities that plays a huge role in our generation also plays into the concept of music, as now just hearing our favorite artists / records is not enough; we now have access to unlimited media about their lives and who they are as people. not only can we hear their story through the music, but through all that they are willing to share outside of the studio. the ease and accessibility i have today is something i try not to take for granted.

theres something about music that makes you feel connected… connected to something, for lack of better word. the release of serotonin (science fuck ya) that is initiated when u hear your favorite song or your favorite voice is literally a chemical release triggered by something that you love. your body functions and emotions are connected when it comes to music! i think its cool, if i am even explaining this concept right. but, aside from science; nothing beats the feeling in your stomach when your favorite song is blaring. for me, when i hear the intro to Freaky Friday or Mona Lisa i feel like a new woman and am ready to go absolutely apeshit. when i hear the intro to cough syrup or the climb, my heart drops so low and i feel emotions i didnt know i needed to feel. when Feeling Whitney by post malone comes on, the ex i never had runs through my mind; and even though i relate to about 5% of what Post sings about in that song, it feels so so undeniably real to me and like i can sympathize with him through his heartache. im rambling clearly, but the main point here is MUSIC! IS POWeRFUL! TO THE SOUL BAYBEEE

so, furthermore, to explain the title. this past weekend i attended the lollapalooza festival in chicago with my mf sisters, my best friends.  + thousands of more people willing to pay over $400 for the music - or the instagram - either resonates with me. i talk about the connection you can feel with music, and literally NOTHING can surpass the feeling of that connection LIVE; when the artists that you have been screaming in the car to work everyday are there with you on stage, singing the same lyrics you feel like you may as well have written yourself at this point. concerts are one of my favorite things to do, as few things can make me as happy as i am when the band emerges onto the stage to start the set and that first beat hits to make you feel at home. this sounds cheesy and dumb but i promise its JUST HOW I FEEL I MEAN CMON youre telling me you wouldnt get chills hearing the first note of Redbone by Childish Gambino live? youre wrong. ~and not only do you feel that connection with the artist. but the people who are watching and singing beside you. i LOVE the concept of being able to talk to the homies around me who are all here for the exact same reason; to see the artist up on that stage. literally they could be anywhere in the world; but they are at the same damn festival and sweating it out in the same damn heat, dehydrated for the same damn reason you are…… to connect with the voice behind the albums they have on repeat. it will never not amaze me that 100,000+ people all come to the same place to hear hundreds of artists for four days. thats a fuck ton! i met lots of cool people this weekend, and even if i only talked to them for 20 seconds EVERY SINGLE CONVERSATION mattered to me. its the little things. i will take my brand of being a people person to my grave and i love talking to people…. even if its an awkward interaction that makes me pee of laughter on Halstead Ln on the sidewalk (thats a story for the books).

the best best best best thing about this trip is that i got to experience it with my MOFO BUDDIES!!!!! i love these girls so much and i know i don’t say it enough - but they truly do mean the world to me and i have no doubt that without them there is no way the experience would have been the same. these are the girls that can make me laugh, that can make fun of things we shouldn’t make fun of together, that can turn a bike ride home into a 15 minute rave, and can make something like braiding hair so much fun. getting ready together every morning was so much fun, and i wish i could wake up and pour glitter in my friends hair every day. id be the happiest person alive!! i am not kidding you when i say i laughed harder on this trip than i have in MONTHS! everything was so funny, and maybe that was the exhaustion or maybe its because we are all (self declared) crackheads at heart. either way, i love these people so much because they can make the most basic things into crazy fun memories that i will never forget about. that dunkin donuts on the corner of diversey + halstead? i will forever associate with the foolery that elisa and i got into with the employees who didnt speak english and our dumbasses who couldn’t hear well enough to communicate through the accents. every time i get in an uber ill probably have a flashback to one of the weird drivers we had who either 1) hated us or 2) offered to take us to a dispensary for weed bc she thought we were cool. THERE IS REALLY NO IN BETWEEN lol. there are a million and 1 memories about the dumbest shit that will only be funny to the 5+ of us. so im not gonna put them here, just know that if u ever ask me to grab you a slim jim theres a 90% chance i will collapse in laughter because of a dumb 2 minute interaction in an Indiana rest stop that sent us all into hysterics.

i feel like these words are a little all over the place, but after a summer full of a stress + a year full of college stress and building anxiety, i didnt know how much i needed lollapalooza. i didnt know that wristband would make me so happy and have as much of an impact on my life as it did. i didnt know when i bought the ticket that this may have been the best weekend of my life, in 19 years. i waited 19 years for this experience and i didnt even know that it was waiting on me. and thats one of the most beautiful parts of life - you never know what the next day brings so you might as well say fuck it and do what you want or it will never come.

see you next year lollapalooza, shoutout to my parents for trusting me to navigate chicago by myself and have a weekend that ill tell your grandkids about some day. thanks for trusting me enough not to take street molly at the EDM stage! even though the offer was tempting, i listened to what you and D.A.R.E taught me about taking questionable narcotics from strangers.

“if someone offered me molly right now id honestly take it”

elisa, abby, julia, + chloe: id do a n y t h i n g to go back to last wednesday when we began all this. i love u all so mucho xx

xoxoxoxoxooxoxo

sad tender gossip girl; currently listening to sweet music by HOZIER wus good ????

[vitalmindandbody]

Misty Copeland: dancing into record

She was caught between her impoverished mother and the ballet mistress who offered her a way out. Aaron Hicklin meets Misty Copeland, the first black principal at the American Ballet Theatre

We cannot know whether Misty Copeland would have become Americas most celebrated ballet dancer if she had not met Cindy Bradley, the flame-haired instructor who first recognised and then sharpened her talents, but it seems unlikely. Then again, its doubtful that Copeland would have met Bradley if not for Elizabeth Cantine, the coach of her school drill team who urged her to check out the free ballet class at the Boys & Girls Club of San Pedro. Nor is it clear that Copeland would have joined Cantines squad without the encouragement of her adored older sister, Erica, a drill team star. It was Erica who helped Copeland choreograph an audition piece to George Michaels I Want Your Sex. And who, knowing her story, can omit the Russian gymnast Nadia Comaneci from this roll call? As a seven-year-old, trying to emulate Comanecis pyrotechnics, Copeland instinctively understood that rhythmic motion came as naturally to me as breathing, to quote from her memoir, Life in Motion.

This is life, a cascading series of chance encounters and arbitrary choices that shape our destinies, but for a young black girl in a working-class Los Angeles suburb, who characterises her childhood as packing, scrambling, leaving often barely surviving, catching the right breaks are nigh on impossible. Yet through whatever alchemy of grit, resilience and compulsion, Misty Copeland, a 65lb ragamuffin when she arrived at Bradleys class, beat the odds. In August 2015 she was promoted to principal dancer for the American Ballet Theatre (ABT), the first black woman to achieve the distinction in the theatres 75-year history.

For millions of Americans, Copelands journey to the pinnacle of her profession is an archetypal story of triumph over adversity. At the Boys & Girls Club where she practised her first ballet steps, todays visitor is confronted with a painting showing Copeland in a forlorn crouch, forehead resting on her knees. Around her swirl words like agony, hurting, desolation, hardship and rejection. Next to it is another painting in which Copeland pirouettes like a music box ballerina, music notes spiralling over her head. Nearby, a sign proclaims Great Futures Start Here. Copeland is the girl from the wrong side of the tracks who got to stand tall on pointe shoes. Im often asked if Im OK being referred to as the black ballerina, she says. And I say: I dont think thats something I want to change. Were still at a point where it needs to be acknowledged all the time.

Pointing the way: the ballet superstar who beat all the odds. Photograph: Danielle Levitt for the Observer

It is early afternoon, and in a small waiting area inside Steps on Broadway, one of New Yorks best-known dance studios, Copeland sits scrunched up on a bench trying to talk above the din of wailing toddlers as they wait for a class to begin. Although they might not know it, Copeland is the acme of what those little girls dream to be, and a riposte to classical ballets long history of exclusion. Its partly her Cinderella story that has made her a household name in a marginalised art, but its also a reflection of the astute way she has parlayed her visibility beyond the world of ballet. She has danced for Prince (in his 2010 Welcome 2 America tour), appeared in a 2014 commercial for Under Armour that quickly went viral, interviewed President Obama and made the cover of Time magazine in 2015 the first dancer to do so since Bill T Jones in 1994. Her memoir is to be turned into a movie.

Predictably, none of that has stopped the envious from turning her success into a question. People ask: Is she getting this opportunity just because shes had such a voice, and because shes black, or is she good enough to get this part? says Copeland. All of these things can mess with you psychologically and emotionally. Youd think it would get easier over time, but for me it gets harder.

Copeland did not always perceive the prejudice she was up against as plainly as she does today. As an adolescent, dance was a safe harbour where she felt entirely at home. Going to a school in southern California that was very diverse I never felt like I fitted in, she says. But stick me in a ballet studio surrounded by white girls, and I was, like: Oh, I belong here. I wasnt even thinking about the colour of my skin.

A cripplingly shy child, at her happiest hiding in the closet playing Solitaire or locked in the bathroom listening to Mariah Carey, Copeland was 13 when she discovered dance, a belated epiphany. Ballet was always an escape, she says. It was a place where I felt safe, and I didnt have that in any aspect of my life growing up. I was so introverted because I felt that something could hurt me. There wasnt always a man in our house who I trusted, or we werent always living in a place where I felt secure, and ballet was this one constant in my life that I could rely on.

Perpetual motion: does her life validate the idea that talent is innate? Photograph: Danielle Levitt for the Observer

In many ways Copelands life is a powerful validation of the idea that talent is innate. When I saw her in the gym, a tiny malnourished girl who stood with such poise and presence, I couldnt believe it, says Cantine. I just said: Ill take that one. Copeland not only made the squad, she was made captain. But when Cantine recommended Bradleys ballet class, Copeland was sceptical. I was, like, Absolutely not this is as far as I go outside my comfort zone. She went to watch, just to please Cantine, dutifully returning every day for two weeks until Bradley persuaded her to join in. Copeland quickly realised shed found her place. It was the first time I ever felt beautiful, she says. Just to look in the mirror and to be told: Youre what a ballerina looks like.

Bradley, a former punk rocker who had enjoyed moderate success in the 1980s with a band called the Wigs, took to her new pupil instantly. The affection was mutual. Within eight weeks, Copeland had learned to dance en pointe, a skill that most young ballerinas take years to master. The moment of triumph is recorded in a photograph that Bradley had the foresight to snap: Copeland is ramrod straight on the point of her right foot, a smile suffusing her face. Cindy was definitely a big part of my growth, not just as a dancer but as a person, says Copeland. I had never experienced someone forcing me to voice my opinion, and to communicate. I started to develop skills that were so underdeveloped in me.

Copelands growing intimacy with Bradley came at a time when life at home was getting harder. Her mother, Sylvia DeLaCerna, left one temperamental husband for another, and the family found itself living in a motel, sharing two rooms and pooling loose change to buy food. Copeland found her escape in ballet, but DeLaCerna worried the commute to class was too onerous, and told her daughter to quit. That was when Bradley persuaded DeLaCerna to let Copeland move in with her, sharing a room with her two-year-old son, Wolf. Id only been married for two years, and suddenly we had a teenage girl, and she stole our hearts, immediately, says Bradley. On Fridays, Copeland would make matzo ball soup and light the Sabbath candles. It just felt like this beautiful thing that they shared, and I think thats what I was drawn to, Copeland says. When the Bradleys had a professional family portrait taken, Copeland was part of it.

Girl prodigy: in 1998, as a child dancer. Photograph: Kevin Karzin/AP

Its not difficult to see how this would begin to grate on Copelands mother and siblings, who began describing their sister as brainwashed. When those pressures finally exploded, shortly after Copeland won a prestigious award for playing Kitri in her favourite ballet Don Quixote, the fallout was painful and highly public. DeLaCerna decided her daughter no longer needed the Bradleys; in response they encouraged Copeland to petition the courts for emancipation from her parents. DeLaCerna fought back, securing the legendary civil rights lawyer, Gloria Allred. Eventually, Copeland dropped her petition, but the damage was lasting. It was very traumatic having so much of my life exposed for everyone to see, she says. It took 10 years before I could talk about it without crying. It was no easier for Bradley. It was a huge void that never healed, she says. I had so many things to say to her. The two would not speak for 15 years.

In May, Copeland will play Kitri again, but this time in a production for the ABT. Its the role of a lifetime, one she has dreamed about since seeing her idol, Paloma Herrera, play it in 1996. But Copeland is 34 now, and her journey has been arduous. In 2012, days after her critically lauded debut in the title role of Stravinskys Firebird, she discovered six stress fractures in her tibia. It would take seven months of physical therapy before she could return to the stage. Last year, she finally got to reprise her Firebird performance, one of several lead roles she took on as part of the ABTs spring/summer season, including Odette in Swan Lake. She also married her long-time beau Olu Evans. Her promotion to principal dancer may be a vindication of her hard work, but she knows a dancers career is short. A couple of weeks after I was promoted to principal dancer was the first time I felt: This is the beginning of the end, she says. I was promoted at a very late age for a dancer, so my career as a principal will definitely be shorter than most. She thinks for a moment. The scary thing is what will fill that void. She laughs. My poor husband.

We live in an era, to quote dance critic Madison Mainwaring in The Atlantic, when Kim Kardashians selfies get more serious coverage than dancers who have dedicated their lives to their form. Copeland might be the exception that proves the rule, but the vitality of classical dance in America rides on the trail shes blazing. At a time of heightened consciousness around black identity, her story has lured new audiences to classical dance. Is it enough? The ballet world is constantly talking about how we need more exposure, to bring more people in, but they dont want to change anything about it, Copeland says, with exasperation. It doesnt work that way, something has to change and evolve.

Ruffling feathers: as Odette in Swan Lake in 2015 for the Washington Ballet. Photograph: Theo Kossenas Photography

Its a bright blue morning in San Pedro, and the city glows after weeks of abnormally high rainfall. In her black Volkswagen Beetle, Bradley is pointing out the landmarks of Copelands youth. Did you see the sign? she asks, pointing to a plaque that reads Misty Copeland Square at an intersection adjacent to the San Pedro Ballet School, a former bakery that Bradley and her husband, Patrick, bought in 1998. The plaque was unveiled just before Christmas in 2015, and if you Google footage of the ceremony, you will see a visibly moved Copeland thanking the Bradleys for giving me a path and platform to change not only my life, but so many little brown girls lives.

Bradley drives me to her former condo, near a bluff overlooking the ocean. In her memoir, Copeland recalls it smelling of cinnamon and the sea. We sit in the car for a while, and Bradley tells stories of Copeland helping to potty-train Wolf, dancing with him, being a sister. It seems like yesterday, she sighs. I knew it wasnt going to end well from the start. It was wonderful, but very scary, feeling that every minute was going to be our last. She pauses. But it worked out OK.

Our tour ends where the story begins at the Boys & Girls Club of San Pedro. Inside the gymnasium, Bradley indicates the lines of benches. She wasnt just watching casually she was absorbing while she was sitting there, she says, summoning the image. She didnt move, she watched intently for a few weeks and kept saying No, no, no, until finally she stepped on to the floor. She was a skinny, skinny brown girl with pretty hair.

Happy couple: with long-time beau Olu Evans, who she married last year. Photograph: Evan Agostini/Invision

Ever since Bradley could dance, she has wanted to teach. I just thought: Everybody needs to know this, she says. In Copeland she found her first prodigy. I touched her foot and thats when the magic happened, she says, lost in a private reverie. Ive never been able to describe it before, but I knew she was special. Blinking back tears, she shakes her head in astonishment. She hadnt danced! she says. It was an angels singing moment. That same day, Bradley offered Copeland a scholarship, sending a note home to her mother.

We walk back through the club, past the twin posters of Misty Copeland in despair and triumph, the pool table, the vending machine dispensing frozen fruit bars, the spray-painted symbol of the power fist. And as we emerge into the sunlight, Bradley recovers her composure. I have actually just found my second prodigy Enrique. She pulls out her phone. Ill show you a picture. Like Copeland, Enrique started late (at 16), and like Copeland, he is beset by challenges, most having to do with being a Latino man in a world still defined as white and female. Its the first Ive talked about him, because I learned the first time you should not talk about them too much, says Bradley. She laughs, before adding: Until youre ready to lose them. We both peer at the photo. This is a while ago, so hes more spectacular now, she says, beaming. Hes got it all.

Hair and Make-up by Bank using Pacifica at Factory Downtown; Producer Stephanie Porto; Digital Tech Jordan Zuppa; Lighting perry hall and JP Herrera; Set design Chris Stone; location Steps on Broadway, NYC

Life in Motion by Misty Copeland is published by Sphere, 9.99. Order it for 8.49 at bookshop.theguardian.com

Read more: www.theguardian.com

The post Misty Copeland: dancing into record appeared first on vitalmindandbody.com.

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Misty Copeland: dancing into history

She was caught between her impoverished mother and the ballet mistress who offered her a way out. Aaron Hicklin meets Misty Copeland, the first black principal at the American Ballet Theatre

We cannot know whether Misty Copeland would have become Americas most celebrated ballet dancer if she had not met Cindy Bradley, the flame-haired instructor who first recognised and then sharpened her talents, but it seems unlikely. Then again, its doubtful that Copeland would have met Bradley if not for Elizabeth Cantine, the coach of her school drill team who urged her to check out the free ballet class at the Boys & Girls Club of San Pedro. Nor is it clear that Copeland would have joined Cantines squad without the encouragement of her adored older sister, Erica, a drill team star. It was Erica who helped Copeland choreograph an audition piece to George Michaels I Want Your Sex. And who, knowing her story, can omit the Russian gymnast Nadia Comaneci from this roll call? As a seven-year-old, trying to emulate Comanecis pyrotechnics, Copeland instinctively understood that rhythmic motion came as naturally to me as breathing, to quote from her memoir, Life in Motion.

This is life, a cascading series of chance encounters and arbitrary choices that shape our destinies, but for a young black girl in a working-class Los Angeles suburb, who characterises her childhood as packing, scrambling, leaving often barely surviving, catching the right breaks are nigh on impossible. Yet through whatever alchemy of grit, resilience and compulsion, Misty Copeland, a 65lb ragamuffin when she arrived at Bradleys class, beat the odds. In August 2015 she was promoted to principal dancer for the American Ballet Theatre (ABT), the first black woman to achieve the distinction in the theatres 75-year history.

For millions of Americans, Copelands journey to the pinnacle of her profession is an archetypal story of triumph over adversity. At the Boys & Girls Club where she practised her first ballet steps, todays visitor is confronted with a painting showing Copeland in a forlorn crouch, forehead resting on her knees. Around her swirl words like agony, hurting, desolation, hardship and rejection. Next to it is another painting in which Copeland pirouettes like a music box ballerina, music notes spiralling over her head. Nearby, a sign proclaims Great Futures Start Here. Copeland is the girl from the wrong side of the tracks who got to stand tall on pointe shoes. Im often asked if Im OK being referred to as the black ballerina, she says. And I say: I dont think thats something I want to change. Were still at a point where it needs to be acknowledged all the time.

Pointing the way: the ballet superstar who beat all the odds. Photograph: Danielle Levitt for the Observer

It is early afternoon, and in a small waiting area inside Steps on Broadway, one of New Yorks best-known dance studios, Copeland sits scrunched up on a bench trying to talk above the din of wailing toddlers as they wait for a class to begin. Although they might not know it, Copeland is the acme of what those little girls dream to be, and a riposte to classical ballets long history of exclusion. Its partly her Cinderella story that has made her a household name in a marginalised art, but its also a reflection of the astute way she has parlayed her visibility beyond the world of ballet. She has danced for Prince (in his 2010 Welcome 2 America tour), appeared in a 2014 commercial for Under Armour that quickly went viral, interviewed President Obama and made the cover of Time magazine in 2015 the first dancer to do so since Bill T Jones in 1994. Her memoir is to be turned into a movie.

Predictably, none of that has stopped the envious from turning her success into a question. People ask: Is she getting this opportunity just because shes had such a voice, and because shes black, or is she good enough to get this part? says Copeland. All of these things can mess with you psychologically and emotionally. Youd think it would get easier over time, but for me it gets harder.

Copeland did not always perceive the prejudice she was up against as plainly as she does today. As an adolescent, dance was a safe harbour where she felt entirely at home. Going to a school in southern California that was very diverse I never felt like I fitted in, she says. But stick me in a ballet studio surrounded by white girls, and I was, like: Oh, I belong here. I wasnt even thinking about the colour of my skin.

A cripplingly shy child, at her happiest hiding in the closet playing Solitaire or locked in the bathroom listening to Mariah Carey, Copeland was 13 when she discovered dance, a belated epiphany. Ballet was always an escape, she says. It was a place where I felt safe, and I didnt have that in any aspect of my life growing up. I was so introverted because I felt that something could hurt me. There wasnt always a man in our house who I trusted, or we werent always living in a place where I felt secure, and ballet was this one constant in my life that I could rely on.

Perpetual motion: does her life validate the idea that talent is innate? Photograph: Danielle Levitt for the Observer

In many ways Copelands life is a powerful validation of the idea that talent is innate. When I saw her in the gym, a tiny malnourished girl who stood with such poise and presence, I couldnt believe it, says Cantine. I just said: Ill take that one. Copeland not only made the squad, she was made captain. But when Cantine recommended Bradleys ballet class, Copeland was sceptical. I was, like, Absolutely not this is as far as I go outside my comfort zone. She went to watch, just to please Cantine, dutifully returning every day for two weeks until Bradley persuaded her to join in. Copeland quickly realised shed found her place. It was the first time I ever felt beautiful, she says. Just to look in the mirror and to be told: Youre what a ballerina looks like.

Bradley, a former punk rocker who had enjoyed moderate success in the 1980s with a band called the Wigs, took to her new pupil instantly. The affection was mutual. Within eight weeks, Copeland had learned to dance en pointe, a skill that most young ballerinas take years to master. The moment of triumph is recorded in a photograph that Bradley had the foresight to snap: Copeland is ramrod straight on the point of her right foot, a smile suffusing her face. Cindy was definitely a big part of my growth, not just as a dancer but as a person, says Copeland. I had never experienced someone forcing me to voice my opinion, and to communicate. I started to develop skills that were so underdeveloped in me.

Copelands growing intimacy with Bradley came at a time when life at home was getting harder. Her mother, Sylvia DeLaCerna, left one temperamental husband for another, and the family found itself living in a motel, sharing two rooms and pooling loose change to buy food. Copeland found her escape in ballet, but DeLaCerna worried the commute to class was too onerous, and told her daughter to quit. That was when Bradley persuaded DeLaCerna to let Copeland move in with her, sharing a room with her two-year-old son, Wolf. Id only been married for two years, and suddenly we had a teenage girl, and she stole our hearts, immediately, says Bradley. On Fridays, Copeland would make matzo ball soup and light the Sabbath candles. It just felt like this beautiful thing that they shared, and I think thats what I was drawn to, Copeland says. When the Bradleys had a professional family portrait taken, Copeland was part of it.

Girl prodigy: in 1998, as a child dancer. Photograph: Kevin Karzin/AP

Its not difficult to see how this would begin to grate on Copelands mother and siblings, who began describing their sister as brainwashed. When those pressures finally exploded, shortly after Copeland won a prestigious award for playing Kitri in her favourite ballet Don Quixote, the fallout was painful and highly public. DeLaCerna decided her daughter no longer needed the Bradleys; in response they encouraged Copeland to petition the courts for emancipation from her parents. DeLaCerna fought back, securing the legendary civil rights lawyer, Gloria Allred. Eventually, Copeland dropped her petition, but the damage was lasting. It was very traumatic having so much of my life exposed for everyone to see, she says. It took 10 years before I could talk about it without crying. It was no easier for Bradley. It was a huge void that never healed, she says. I had so many things to say to her. The two would not speak for 15 years.

In May, Copeland will play Kitri again, but this time in a production for the ABT. Its the role of a lifetime, one she has dreamed about since seeing her idol, Paloma Herrera, play it in 1996. But Copeland is 34 now, and her journey has been arduous. In 2012, days after her critically lauded debut in the title role of Stravinskys Firebird, she discovered six stress fractures in her tibia. It would take seven months of physical therapy before she could return to the stage. Last year, she finally got to reprise her Firebird performance, one of several lead roles she took on as part of the ABTs spring/summer season, including Odette in Swan Lake. She also married her long-time beau Olu Evans. Her promotion to principal dancer may be a vindication of her hard work, but she knows a dancers career is short. A couple of weeks after I was promoted to principal dancer was the first time I felt: This is the beginning of the end, she says. I was promoted at a very late age for a dancer, so my career as a principal will definitely be shorter than most. She thinks for a moment. The scary thing is what will fill that void. She laughs. My poor husband.

We live in an era, to quote dance critic Madison Mainwaring in The Atlantic, when Kim Kardashians selfies get more serious coverage than dancers who have dedicated their lives to their form. Copeland might be the exception that proves the rule, but the vitality of classical dance in America rides on the trail shes blazing. At a time of heightened consciousness around black identity, her story has lured new audiences to classical dance. Is it enough? The ballet world is constantly talking about how we need more exposure, to bring more people in, but they dont want to change anything about it, Copeland says, with exasperation. It doesnt work that way, something has to change and evolve.

Ruffling feathers: as Odette in Swan Lake in 2015 for the Washington Ballet. Photograph: Theo Kossenas Photography

Its a bright blue morning in San Pedro, and the city glows after weeks of abnormally high rainfall. In her black Volkswagen Beetle, Bradley is pointing out the landmarks of Copelands youth. Did you see the sign? she asks, pointing to a plaque that reads Misty Copeland Square at an intersection adjacent to the San Pedro Ballet School, a former bakery that Bradley and her husband, Patrick, bought in 1998. The plaque was unveiled just before Christmas in 2015, and if you Google footage of the ceremony, you will see a visibly moved Copeland thanking the Bradleys for giving me a path and platform to change not only my life, but so many little brown girls lives.

Bradley drives me to her former condo, near a bluff overlooking the ocean. In her memoir, Copeland recalls it smelling of cinnamon and the sea. We sit in the car for a while, and Bradley tells stories of Copeland helping to potty-train Wolf, dancing with him, being a sister. It seems like yesterday, she sighs. I knew it wasnt going to end well from the start. It was wonderful, but very scary, feeling that every minute was going to be our last. She pauses. But it worked out OK.

Our tour ends where the story begins at the Boys & Girls Club of San Pedro. Inside the gymnasium, Bradley indicates the lines of benches. She wasnt just watching casually she was absorbing while she was sitting there, she says, summoning the image. She didnt move, she watched intently for a few weeks and kept saying No, no, no, until finally she stepped on to the floor. She was a skinny, skinny brown girl with pretty hair.

Happy couple: with long-time beau Olu Evans, who she married last year. Photograph: Evan Agostini/Invision

Ever since Bradley could dance, she has wanted to teach. I just thought: Everybody needs to know this, she says. In Copeland she found her first prodigy. I touched her foot and thats when the magic happened, she says, lost in a private reverie. Ive never been able to describe it before, but I knew she was special. Blinking back tears, she shakes her head in astonishment. She hadnt danced! she says. It was an angels singing moment. That same day, Bradley offered Copeland a scholarship, sending a note home to her mother.

We walk back through the club, past the twin posters of Misty Copeland in despair and triumph, the pool table, the vending machine dispensing frozen fruit bars, the spray-painted symbol of the power fist. And as we emerge into the sunlight, Bradley recovers her composure. I have actually just found my second prodigy Enrique. She pulls out her phone. Ill show you a picture. Like Copeland, Enrique started late (at 16), and like Copeland, he is beset by challenges, most having to do with being a Latino man in a world still defined as white and female. Its the first Ive talked about him, because I learned the first time you should not talk about them too much, says Bradley. She laughs, before adding: Until youre ready to lose them. We both peer at the photo. This is a while ago, so hes more spectacular now, she says, beaming. Hes got it all.

Hair and Make-up by Bank using Pacifica at Factory Downtown; Producer Stephanie Porto; Digital Tech Jordan Zuppa; Lighting perry hall and JP Herrera; Set design Chris Stone; location Steps on Broadway, NYC

Life in Motion by Misty Copeland is published by Sphere, 9.99. Order it for 8.49 at bookshop.theguardian.com

Read more: http://bit.ly/2mP7cCP

from Misty Copeland: dancing into history