#it's similar with food fantasy except that i actually spent money on that one to get raindrop cake and b-52 (iirc)

[mothbaaalls]

i still have dragalia lost on my phone despite it eosing forever ago...

[quitethepirategal]

An Analysis in Threes

❥ TAGGED BY: @emcads​ like 30 years ago ❥ TAGGING: @riidcr​ @starsailingcaptain​ @covencrown​ @hookd​ @all-fleshed-out​ @evermxre​ @motherofredemption​ @bup1957​ @conquistadoradelmar​ @seaprofound​ @tcthinecwnself​ @withinycu​ @windguided​ @daevilhorns​ @concordia-cum-sinistro​ and YOU and I spent like 8 hours on this so pLEASE READ IT PLEASE I AM BEGGING I NEED VALIDATION I’M-

     repost don’t reblog. yall dont have to type this much.

MUSE: Captain Red Handed Jessica

Three Strengths:

     Her adaptability and resourcefulness.  Is she brave, yes.  Is she lucky, also yes.   But over all, she can roll with the cards she’s been dealt in a way that many would call inhumanly clever.  Her intelligence, her perception, and her charisma are all different ingredients of this indomitable characteristic of hers.  She can see the value in just about anything and anyone, can pick up on clues and tangents few others can follow, and can remember seemingly endless details, tho unfortunately not on command.  But even then, her patchy memory seems to contribute to this adaptability as well, as it usually allows for detachment.  If she can find resources everywhere, it means she can survive everywhere. There have been countless times where the wheel of fortune has suddenly turned on her and she’d lost near everything and her response was more or less Damn, ok I need food water and shelter lets go.  No food?  Grow food.  No water?  Ask someone if they have water.  No shelter?  Sleep outside.  No money?  Steal money.  Can’t hear anymore?  Cool I can use loud weapons.  Crashed on an island?  My island now.  Shot?  Free bullet.  She knows when to push, she knows when to quit, and sometimes she knows when to gamble based on her ability ( what a man can do and what he can’t do and all that ).  Strong she may be, she knows its foolish to rely on strength.  Survival of the fittest actually rarely means survival of the strongest. ( edit; this is the theme for the entirety of her character. I will say it 50,000 times. I am very sorry ).  And as a student of philosophy and biology, she understands that phrase better than most. Leading to our next point.

     Her understanding.  As I stated, her charisma is something unmatched, and is a key element in all three of her strengths.  This charisma might not exist as prominently were it not for her ability to understand.  She has limited ( I’ll get back to that ) but deep running empathy and while not terribly observant all the time, she is always perceptive.  Not only that, but she’s personally known abuse, hardship, and uncertainty, and understands that hate or anger can be rooted in similar pain.  She was schooled lightly in both Christian and Buddhist values before diving heavily into democratic philosophy, meaning she believes all being experience suffering and therefore kindness is a powerful sign of strength, but also that suffering while free and equal is better than comfort in oppression.  And between her sweet words and beautiful face, she can get most people to open up in ways they themselves my not have expected.  Being very good with people means she can learn from them, gain something from them, lead them, and/or use them.  But Jessica isn’t a manipulator in truth; her intentions are almost always kind or healthy ones.  She absolutely uses people from time to time but not EVER without them consenting to or being made aware of such because again, unlike a manipulative person, she understands that can ruin a relationship and therefore ruin a resource.  What it makes for is an excellent leader, a beloved captain, and a trusted ally at most and an excellent conversationalist at the least.      But her understanding isn’t just social, oh no.  It’s academic as well.  Armed only with his little library and the lessons of his own teachers, Jessica’s foster father tirelessly smithed her into a not just a girl who knew a lot of things, but a truly intelligent, thinking mind. He’d die before learning he’d succeeded tenfold.  Jessica isn’t one to just except things as they are, facts or otherwise.  She usually needs to prove it, experiment, see things from a new angle.  Debates with her are fun!  She has no issue admitting she’s wrong or confessing she’s never thought of it that way, and is actually wrong a lot of the time.  It doesn’t bruise her ego, it excites her.  It means there’s more to learn.  And her ability to constantly understand new concepts paired with her ability to overwhelmingly understand people combine to make for a very powerful core idea of hers:  We are fittest to survive because we all fit together.  Our humanity, our empathy, our community are our strengths because they keep us united, which keeps us the fittest.  No one is independent, no man is an island.  People are power. And thus her final strength is just that.

     Her power.  While she and I still firmly state that strength isn’t everything don’t be disillusioned; its very goddamn important.  And it’s something Jessica has plenty of.  She is durable and clever because of her rocky early childhood, she is quick and versatile from her youth in a pirate port, she is physically strong and mighty from her years training in martial arts, and she’s an absolute crackshot after years of diligent practice with her trusty pistols.  Her true strength may lie in her brains and in her allies yes, but even without them, Red Jessica is a powerhouse of a warrior.  She can end fights extremely quickly or run from them without a prayer of catching her ( no shame in the later, both skills keep you alive ).  And it may be in bad taste to say, but ever since loosing most of her hearing, Jess swears up and down it’s made her vision better, her reaction time faster, and her quick thinking even quicker.  Yes of course she’s slowed down with age, but a bullet shoots at the same speed no matter how old you are.  And you best hope she didn’t bring her firecrackers, because while sudden loud noises will absolutely temporarily discombobulate or debilitate an opponent with healthy hearing, it’ll hardly effect her at all and suddenly, you’re a sitting duck.  You see those thighs?  You see those calves?  She can crush PINEAPPLES with them!  People have seen her do it!  Do you know how many micro-fractures broke and rebuilt those hands?  Thousands!  She can crush a trachea like a fucking beer can!  She can kick you to death!  One ill placed curb stomp and you are DECEASED.  Sometimes she’ll just psyche you out because she KNOWS you know she can kill your stupid ass!       But while her strength, mental and physical, have always been there, her power is relatively new.  As stated before, people are power.  Not knowledge, not money, not strength.  People.  She’s a fearsome warrior but she’d be useless if outnumbered.  Shes a very successful pirate, but she’d never make it out of port without a crew on her ship.  She found a gorgeous island, but it’d still be wild without those who built it’s piers and buildings.  She manages orchards and tends to them and harvests them herself, but she would loose all of her crop without the helping hands of her employed farmers.  And like I mentioned, she deeply understands this.  Freedom is not independence or vice versa.  Did you make the clothes on your back or the fabric that made those clothes?  Did you write the books you read to make you smarter or teach you that skill?  Did you plant the seed years ago that grew that orange you’re eating?  No, of course not.  Jessica didn’t either.  Another human did.  We all need each other to fill the holes in our lives that we can’t fill ourselves.  Humans are puzzle pieces in that way, there is no bigger picture or prayer for survival on our own.  And because of this, we can do anything we as a community, as a SPECIES work together to achieve.  There is no knowledge if there’s no one to learn from, there is no money if a society don’t give it value, your money is worthless if those you’re paying decide to rise against you, your role as leader only exists at the consent of those you lead, and your strength won’t save you from a sinking ship.  People are, and always will be, power.       And as someone who is exceptionally strong and exceedingly smart, Jessica has slotted herself in the humanity puzzle thusly: The strong exist to protect the weak, the smart exist to educate, and the lucky exist so the unlucky may be given aid.  And it is with this fairness and compassion that she has won the trust of so many.  She has a great many friends and allies even outside of those in her crew or on her island.  And she can make many more with ease.  That kind of power is not a power to be trifled with, even if she can kick your ass six ways to Saturday without it. 

Three Weaknesses:

     She suffers ADHD.  Now before ANY OF Y’ALL SAY ANYTHING, I myself also suffer ADHD.  And yes I do say suffer because well that’s what it causes for Jessica and I, suffering.  Yes, it is ableist language to say ‘suffering from’ rather than ‘has’ or ‘is diagnosed with’ and yes it perpetuates a stigma against us but god DAMN IT in both Jessica’s case and mine, it make life much much harder than it needs to be.  At the end of the day, Red Jessica is a fantasy of mine; I pour myself into her whether I mean to or not.  She’s the adult I wish I was, the person I might be if I had no anxiety, or brainfog, or lived in a world were I didn’t need a credit score or a degree. And even then, I can’t say I know anyone else’s problems better than my own.  So if my character has problems, by sheer osmosis they are going to reflect some of mine.  Both of the characters I write have ADHD because I have ADHD and I couldn’t even begin to know how a non-ADHD mind works to write it properly.  And no, I’m not being dramatic when I say it causes me suffering.  I can’t drive, I can’t hold down a job, I nearly flunked out of school, I still cant read very fast or spell very well, I am constantly overwhelmed by mundane things, I’m a slow learner, I forget very important things or recent things, I forget about things that mean the world to me, I forget about people, I stumble through tasks, I procrastinate hobbies and basic hygiene, and everything I do takes all goddamn day and I can only really do one important thing at a time and in order of importance.  If I have a date at 4pm, I’m dressed and ready at 11am because I’ve gotta do the important thing first or else I will forget to do the important thing.  I started typing this at a little before 5pm.  It’s 7;30.  It’ll probably be 10 o’clock at night by the time I fucking finish ( edit: l m a o its 1am bitch you thought ).  I’m 26 and am just medicated enough to barely function.  So yeah.  Suffering is the word.       Though for Jessica, perhaps suffering is a tad strong of a word.  Her ADHD affects her ability to function in far less debilitating ways ( though whether that’s a result of a less severe diagnosis than me or the result of the society, situations, and responsibilities she functions in and around are far different from mine, who’s to say ).  For her, she has very consuming hyperfixations that can last anywhere between weeks to decades, a spotty memory that is detail and memento oriented,  she’s scatterbrained more often then not but can focus with amazing clarity on her interests or in high adrenaline situations, is is ABYSMALLY bad at math and EXCRUCIATINGLY bad with numbers ( as opposed to me, who is good at numbers but shit at spelling or reading ), she can forget anything no matter how important it is to her or to anyone, she’s bad with names and dates, is COMPLETELY time-blind, has trouble prioritizing, and of course, wile not actually that materialistic, she absolutely has the ol’ magpie instinct.       While her poor memory assists in her adaptability and ability to move on, it also means she forgets things she needed to remember, like when the last time she bathed was and who this person is and what happened between her and someone else or what conversation’s shes had.  Unfortunately this means she’s a very good friend and leader... while you’re around and interacting with her on at least a weekly basis.  It’s almost a lack of object permanence in both a social and very real sense.  If something is not right in front of her, odds are she’s not going to think about it.  And while its something she constantly kicks herself for and actively tries to be better about, it applies to people too.  Face to face is the best way to interact with her; she won’t think to write you and in her modern verse she won’t think to ever call and she’ll text you back in perhaps a few days.  She doesn’t value you any less, I promise.  She’s just either distracted or overwhelmed.  Also, for someone as understanding as her, she is surprisingly self-centered.  Not selfish, self-centered.  She’ll talk about herself more than she should, and will assume people understand that she’s doing so as a form of showing empathy rather than bragging when they may not know this at all.  Actually she accidentally assumes all the time.  It was far worse when her hearing was functional; she’d finish your sentence for you or guess what it was you were going to say ( again, not to talk over, you but to show she understands you and the conversation, tho it usually came of as annoying or patronizing ).  Sometimes she mistakenly assumes you believe or know the same things she does without even realizing it.  Maybe she perceives the right idea off of someone but isn’t observant enough to notice anything past that.  And while she is willing to change her mind about things, she might change her mind a tad too quickly.  She’s an over-sharer and is horrible at keeping any kind of secret.  Romantic relationships tend to fizzle out. Her impulse control is improving but has a VERY long way to go. She’s always chasing something new.       All and all, when you’re a pirate, a librarian, or even a captain, all of these things may be irritating and inconvenient, but are overall manageable in chunks.  ...But as a governor to her island, as a leader of an entire population... oof. In the position of leadership that she’s in, she can’t afford to make too many massive mistakes, and she knows this.  ‘There is no power quite like the power of being underestimated’ is a phase you’ll hear her say a lot but for her, there is a shift in connotation.  If people expect less and you do more that’s a great upper hand in any situation but for her, it was a safety net.  Having ADHD sometimes means going months or years being fine and then eventually you fuck up and everyone around you wonders how in the world you managed to do that.  She has only barely avoided disaster more times than she’d like to admit.  Even with the resourcefulness, the understanding, and the power she wields, she’s finally starting to realize that she’s bit off more than she might be able to chew, with the entire well-beings and livelihoods of others on the line.  And she fears that one day she’ll play her cards wrong and everything she’d built, everything she’s done, will all come crashing down in ruin.

     She is Hard of Hearing.  This one is literally as simple as it sounds: she has moderate and degenerative hearing loss and tinnitus after years of canons, explosions, gunshots, and a definitive, scale tipping attack in her early 30s.  Her ears just don’t work at all like they used to.  The whole world sounds like it would if everything was underwater: she can’t pin point the location of sounds, how far off or close sounds are, and barely registers changes in volume. And it only gets worse the older she gets; one day she won’t hear anything at all.  And while yes, again, it might be very harsh and ableist to say, the truth of the matter that being deaf a “ weakness ” more often than its a strength.       That said, it very well can be a strength.  I’ve already mentioned that trick with the firecrackers and let me tell you it is a DAMN EFFECTIVE TRICK.  Shes around explosions and canons and guns all the time and now she can focus while being around them five times better than she could in the past!  But unfortunately it also means she’s very easy to sneak up on, she sometimes isn’t aware of danger until it’s nearly too late,  no one can get her attention or warn her across any distance, it’s very easy to escape from her, and it’s easy for her to be just... left out of things.  She might hear you talking, but she has little to no idea what you’re saying without sign or lipreading.  Some people don’t have the patience or even just the courtesy to speak slower, or clearer, or repeat themselves a lot.  Though, those last too thinks aren’t weaknesses of hers so much as they are the weakness of others, but they still negatively affect her self esteem and her effectiveness as a leader.       All of this has taught her to pick her battles carefully, and plan around the elements of surprise and discombobulation.  And while communication was tricky at first, it only got easier, and now she can talk to you almost like anyone can, so long as she’s looking you in the face. 

     That damn bleeding heart.  We have established a number of things that should easily add up to an overly empathetic, trusting, fight-the-good-fight, martyr-some, idealistic pushover;  she believes humanity and kindness are strengths, she has taken on the role of leader and then a provider, she has known suffering and tasked herself with ending the suffering of others to the best of her ability,  she lacks the clarity of mind to assume people aren’t just as good or capable as her automatically, she can have poor impulse control at times,  she wants to have relationships, and ( while I never stated this outright yet it can be inferred  ), she believes that being able to see yourself in others is the foundation of humanity and ( as i did say outright ) humanity is what keeps us unified and unity is what makes us fit and strong.  Keeping up?  Good. Here’s the curve ball: How can she whole hardheartedly preach and believe all of this, to the point of it being the foundation of her character, WHILE BEING A VIOLENT THIEVING AND BLOODTHIRSTY PIRATE?!  HOW, MANGO? HOW IS THIS POSSIBLE?! MAKE IT MAKE SENSE!!  Ok, fine, sure, I will. I’m sure about one half of you are looking up from the screen and going “ Oh yeah, wow I totally forgot that bit. “ and the other half got about two and a half paragraphs in before squinting and silently calling bullshit. So let me explain.      In short, she’s a detached hypocrite and is well aware and unashamed of her hypocrisy while far less aware of her detachment. I’ll cover both:  Western culture as a whole seems to be under the impression that hypocrisy, despite context or importance, is automatically bad.  I don’t know where this comes from personally ( my bet is Christianity but I have exactly 0 evidence ) but its a very... flawed idea.  Take the freedom of speech vs racism problem; say you owned a bar where all could speak their mind freely over cold drinks.  Excellent concept without context, right?  Sure. ....Then a die hard racist covered in slurs and symbols walks in and orders- what are you going to do?  The correct answer is to throw him out instantly.  Not let him sit so long as he doesn’t cause trouble, not just ignore him and hope he doesn’t return, you throw him out.  Is it hypocritical?  Yep!  Sure is!  But it is also 100% necessary to protect your other patrons because if you don’t, the racist starts feeling safe and bringing his racist buddies, literally everyone else starts feeling unsafe and starts to hang out elsewhere, and two months later, ta da!  You now own a n*zi bar and there is literally nothing you can do about it. Jessica is in a somewhat similar situation.  You as a pretend bar owner need to make a decision as who to let into your bar and who to throw out for the good of all of your patrons.  Jessica too is faced daily with that decision.  If she want’s to help as many people as possible, the only realistic way she can do that are by protecting those under her leadership... only.  She is surrounded by hateful, angry, sneaky, traitorous, abusive, or otherwise evil people.  Piracy as a profession and poverty in general can do that to a person.  Of course there is a clear difference between those down on their luck and desperate, and the truly cruel and twisted, but unfortunately both types of people yield the same wrongdoings.  It’s absolutely her nature to extend a hand to anyone and everyone but.... she just can’t anymore.  Too many times has her trust been betrayed, too many times has she gotten in peoples business trying to be helpful, only for her to absolutely bite her in the ass.  Too many time the extended hand is bitten and once or twice, she’s actually made things worse.       Now, she will only help someone she loves, someone under her leadership, or someone who seeks her out.  That’s it.  And even then, sometime it manages to bite er in the ass.  But she had to set that hard limit for herself out of necessity, one she does her absolute best to adhere too and... these days she adheres a little too well. That leads us to our next point; what I was alluding to at the beginning of her Understanding essay when I said she has limited but deep running empathy.  That detachment again, courtesy of a very unattached mother and unchecked ADHD. ( It isn’t a strong enough characteristic to even rank as a strength or a weakness but damn if it isn’t an undercurrent to a lot of her motivations and experiences. ) Strangers are fair game that she tries to ignore, but if she even perceives you as a threat, you could be in danger. Like anyone used to violence or perhaps anyone trapped in an us verses them mindset, she can just... flat... turn her empathy off.  Not on command, she’s not a socio or psychopath persay.  But she has become totally numb to the horror of violence via her warrior upbringing that, in her mind, violence can actually be rather fun. Pair that with the fact that she purposely tailored herself to only be empathetic to her allies and boom.  You get a kindhearted killer.  Cops and soldiers in our world do it literally every day.  Actually anyone can do it really, even you if you tried. You don’t have to be evil or even angry to kill or steal or lie... you just have to believe you’re right.

Three Secrets:

     WHAT SECRETS?!  LMAO this bitch is the oversharing queen!! I’ve been typing and pondering her character for literal hours ( its currently 11:16, fuck you adderall ), and I still can not think of a single goddamn secret.  There is nothing about her that at least five random people don’t fucking know about!! The only secrets she has are secrets she knows about other people and even then she is!! literally the worst!! She spills her guts left and right and yet she wants to be a mysterious bitch SO BAD like BABE I love you, you’re precious, but you are a dumbass attention seeking validation chasing adhd CLOWN girl!! Stop telling random people about your hermaphroditism or your dairy allergy or your dead dad or that time you fell asleep in a barrel like that is literally your uber driver Jessica honey come ooooon. I’m skipping this section mom holy fuck.

Three Fears:

     What if she does wrong by everyone who trusts her?  As stated at the end of the ADHD essay, she’s terrified of failing those she leads.  Where it as simple as personal failure, she’d be fine.  Ever if her entire world came crashing down on top of her she’d either die or start back from square one.  Death is a fact of life and her adaptability means she can just dust herself off and move on, so neither her death nor her failures really scare her... But it isn’t just her life and happiness at stake, is it? Not anymore, right?  What started as a leader of a small gang of rebels became a full crew, then a crew became a slew of allies, then those allies built a town and now... now she’s the governor of the Crimson Isle and there are nearly twenty five HUNDRED lives at her mercy.   HER mercy.  One really, really bad mistake could ruin their livelihoods or spark disorder and disloyalty.  And if she died?  Would whoever it is that will take her place be as good to them as she is?  Is she good enough to begin with in the first place? Every day the paperwork gets a little bit thicker, every year there’s a new baby or two.  And the isle has fertile soil sure but will it last?  Are they prepared for a raid or a hurricane?  And if Jessica trusts the wrong people, where her people right to trust her?  ...can I protect them? Can I protect them?! CAN I PROTECT THEM?!

     Who am I if I’m not interesting?  This is, literally, an entirely subconscious fear.  She’s not at all aware it exists and therefor this entry is short. But between her short time with her very unimpressed mother, her own ADHD, she is constantly hungry for attention without even realizing it.  She must be interesting and intriguing and engaging, and I did mention she wants to also be mysterious.  She wants not so much your input or even your validation - but rather if shes not perceived then.... is she really there? Remember, she is unaware of any of this.  And fortunately she’d never been starved for attention to act out over it in the first place, even when her disinterested mother was alive. Look at her; she’s radiant, she’s beautiful, and she’s 6′4 / 195 cm shredded and covered in cool scars. Without even opening her mouth, without even her colorful clothes, she’s kind of automatically interesting.  So she’s never been so desperate for attention that she acts out because she’s never been without it for very long.  But it’s there. Hungry, aching, silent.  Those years after the M branding were horrible and she could never really explain why.  She still throws parties, organizes festivals, and talks to damn near anyone who will listen.  Look at my art!  Look at my library! Listen to how much I know! Let me tell you how lovely you are! Look at my scares! Look at my hair! Look at me haha, please, please look at me. 

     GHOSTS. NOPE. No. NO. Fuck ALL of that noise. Stay dead, go to hell, eat a dick.  Red Jessica is a scientist and superstitious atheist. As an academic and somewhat bi-cultural woman she simply thinks there are far too many religions with far too much history for any of them to be considered The One True Thing You Must Believe Or ElseTM and she tends to not truly believe anything until she finds some kind of proof.  Shes not afraid of the unknown, shes thrilled by it. She’s not afraid of death or the afterlife, that’s beyond her control. She’s only superstitious because she does believe in and value luck, and also its a bit of a cultural habit. BUT IF SOME SHIT STARTS MOVING ON ITS OWN OR IF SHE SEES SOME BULLSHIT IN THE CORNER OF HER EYE THEN SHE IS OUT OF THERE. OUTIE 5000. She has heard the tales of lost souls from purgatory or the eternally ravenous Pret or dangerous Phi Tai Hong or the tragic and startling Banshees or the creepy Santa Compana and she wouldn’t believe a word of it where it not for one thing.      SHE FUCKING SAW ONE. She’ll never forget it, it was the first and last time she EVER attempted to plunder a tomb all Skyrim style and at first she thought it was one of the crewmean being creepy as shit until she got a good look and he was SEE THROUGH AS SHIT AND SKINNY AS FCUK AND SHE GOT LITERALLY CHASED THE FUCK OUT OF THAT JOINT. She does not CARE that some ghosts are just apparitions she does not CARE that some are friendly and trying to warn her of something if you are MOVING and DEAD at the SAME time get FUCKED. If any of y’all cringe try-hards bring a Ouija board to the party you are getting SENT HOME and BLOCKED. NO CAP.

Three Goals:

   She really only has one left. Listen its... almost 1am and ive been typing since like 5pm i think i covered goals somewhere in here but ive gotta throw in the towel but even then I’m kinda being serious.  Her only remaining goal is to find a suitable heir of some kind.  She wants what she’s built to fall into worthey hands but she could never seem to find a good parter and even when she did she couldn’t sustain a pregnancy ( you’d think that would be a huge deal but it hardly mattered to her oddly ).  So at 50 the option of having kids is out but there’s still plenty of hope for either adoption or a protege.  But then again, she’s so busy these days that she hardly prioritizes it like she wants to.  

                                                                               holy shit i need some water...

[fieldsofplay]

Favorite Albums of 2020

25. Dehd – Flower of Devotion

Rather than look back on the shit year that was 2020, lets keep our eye on the hope of the horizon.  Speaking of which, Dehd herald much of what’s to come on this here list.  While as previously mentioned a shit year for most everything besides presidential politics, 2020 proved to be a great year for good old fashioned guitar music.  Could I be accused of curling up with my version of musical comfort food? Perhaps.  But starting off with Dehd, we have a type of band that used to be everywhere and now seems to be almost nowhere.  Jangly lo-fi guitars, perky drums, and straightforward unadorned singing.  About five years ago you couldn’t throw a rock in Brooklyn without hitting a band like this, but now that that fad is long gone.  I’m glad that Chicago’s Dehd are still carrying the torch.  

24. Perfume Genius – Set My Heart on Fire Immediately

I’ve always liked Perfume Genius, but for whatever reason Set My Heart on Fire Immediately is the album that took him out of the realm of casual background musical encounter to something I sought out.  Chamber pop has never really been my thing (except for those couple summers where Grizzly Bear was totally my jam), but here the torch songs catch fire by the compressed force of Michael Hadreas’ longing.  This record also pulls off the impressive feat of each song gradually morphing just a bit from what proceeds it, so that the whole record sounds similar and yet each song carves out its own little generic niche, the whole thing united by the quivering power of that pleading voice.  

23. 2nd Grade – Hit to Hit

If you ever found yourself wondering what Guided by Voices would sound like if they wanted to be Big Star instead of punk rock Kinks, we now have the answer, and it’s Phily’s 2nd Grade.  In the noble tradition of Bee Thousand and Alien Lanes, Hit to Hit’s 24 tracks breeze by in a mere 41 minutes and 8 seconds.  An earworm sunny melody, a quick guitar hook, a second verse (maybe), and poof, each song is gone before you could ever miss it.  You would think variation would be difficult working within such tight musical corners, but while each song clearly shares common DNA, there is actually a lot of variance here, from weepy country ditties (“Bye Bye Texas”) to overdriven stompers (“Baby’s First Word”) though they all tend to orbit the same (big) star.  

22. Tame Impala – The Slow Rush

I’ll be the first to admit that The Slow Rush isn’t my favorite Tame Impala record, not by a long shot.  Having said that, this album still feels like it got short shrift this year (not that anyone can really complain about that in these here times).  If we never knew that Lonerism or Innerspeaker or Currents existed, I wonder how much people would be head over heels for this album.  “One More Year” “Is It True” and “Posthumous Forgiveness” are all top notch Impala jams.  Seems like this album is the soundtrack for the chilled out summer hangs that we never got to have, and thus it’s fitting that it seems condemned for the ash-heap of history rather than the late-night come downs we never got up to.

21. Against All Logic – 2017 – 2019

Ah, speaking of complicated musical relationships, I can never seem to chart a clear course with Nicolas Jaar.  The music he puts out under his own name never seems to do much for me, but I dug his collaboration with Dave Harrington as Darkside, and I really love most everything he’s put out as Against All Logic.  While admittedly not a great year for house music—normally a liberating genre of communal interconnectivity, now a cruel reminder that we all live in Footloose—a banger remains a banger, and 2017-2019 is full to the brim with them.  While I honestly can’t remember the last time I went dancing, I’ll still crank up “Fantasy” and bop around my living room, literally dancing by myself (lets be honest, something I would have done pandemic or no).  

20. Fiona Apple – Fetch the Bolt Cutters

Fetch the Bolt Cutters has had a lot of great things said about it this year, so I don’t really have to add that much.  What I will say is this is perhaps the most interesting percussion I’ve ever heard on a record.  There is percussion all over the place, but almost none of it in the form of full-kit drumming.  Fiona always used the left hand on the piano as the rhythmic center of her songs, but here there is drilling, tapping, rapping, patting.  The phrase DIY gets tossed around all the time (and almost never applied to big money, big label Fiona) but to me the most impressive thing about this record is how it always sounds like she is sitting at a rickety upright piano in the corner of a living room, while everyone congregating around keeps the beat by tapping on pots and pans, the walls, whatever is at hand.  I’ve truly never heard anything like it.  

19. Advertisement – American Advertisement

Godbless Seattle’s Advertisement. So long as there is cheap beer, old shitty cars driving with the windows down, and the U-SofA, there’ll be bands like Advertisement.  Straight out of the vein of Cheap Trick and the more recent White Reaper, Advertisement play power pop with the emphasis on the power.  Sometimes this type of music gets called sleazy, but honestly I don’t get it.  I think its probably because you can imagine it playing while Wooderson drives around Austin looking for redheads. While we rightfully cancelled the song of summer this year, “Upstream Boogie” would have gotten my vote, perfect for backyard bbqs and cannonballing into creeks.  

18. Nation of Language – Introduction, Presence

I didn’t set it up this way, but if Advertisement has a diametric opposite, its probably Nation of Language.  Where Advertisement is all frayed edges and foam, Nation of Language is as buttoned up as those terrible sports jackets people wore in the early ‘90s.  While its not as good as my beloved Black Marble, those bands share enough DNA to make me a big fan of this synth pop gem.  It’s not as dark as the cold-wave Black Marble, but it does share that bands fondness for stark baselines and crisp arpeggios.  If you’ve ever envisioned your life as a scene from a John Hughes movie, Nation of Language could easily be playing in the background.

17. The Soft Pink Truth – Shall we Go on Sinning so that Grace May Increase?

Indulge me in a moment of naval gazing.  Every year as I put these things together I reach a point where I’m lack “damn, this album is this low on the list?” And the point at which that thought enters my head is usually indicative of how good a year for music it was.  Now 2020 wasn’t a good year for anything, and I probably spent the least time of any year listening to music, new, old, whatever.  For the most part I just listened to the Grateful Dead and ambient albums.  However, for my idiosyncratic tastes, 2020 was actually a pretty fucking incredible year for new music, as evinced by the fact that this album is all the way down at 17.  

Earlier on in 2020 as I was bombarding my poor local music text thread with yet more of my inane musings, I think I declared this a top 3 album of the year.  And I wasn’t lying!  “Pretty” is often a dirty word in aesthetic appreciation, but this is certainly the “prettiest” album of the year in the best sense of the word.  From the Drew Daniel half of Matmos comes Shall we Go on Sinning so that Grace May Increase?  A record that is somehow simultaneously deep house and feather light, so much so that it needs its own dumb internet music writing moniker—shallow house? wide house? vacation house? (actually kinda like that last one).  With vocals from Jana Hunter, Angel Deradoorian, and Colin Self (with whom I wasn’t previously familiar) this thing will simultaneously make you want to tap your foot and drift off into the clouds.  This is album is like the prayer Madonna sang about all those years ago.  

16. Kurt Vile – Speed, Sound, Lonely KV

It’s not at all surprising that if Kurt Vile decided he wanted to go country western he’d be really fucking good at it.  First of all, he’s an exceptional acoustic guitar picker.  Secondly, his voice, while always befitting his hazed out urban rockers, has just enough twang to it that in retrospect it always sounded a little bit country.  This record also gives me room to offer up an homage to the late great John Prine, for whom the EP is essentially a tribute.  Vile covers two Prine songs, dueting with the man himself on “How Lucky.” Saying goodbye is never easy, but on Speed, Sound, Lonely (both the album, and the song more or less by that name) Vile manages a fitting tribute to a lost legend.  

15. Lomelda – Hannah

The reviews of Hannah really did Lomelda a disservice.  Sure, they were glowing, but they made it sound like this was some weepy milquetoast singer songwriter affair, when it’s actually a knotty album full off elliptical piano and fuzzed out electric guitar.  Its 14 tracks hurtle by, largely due to the fact that almost all of them are under 3 and a ½ minutes.  Things really get going with the second track, “Hannah Sun” with is squiggly synth effects and driving acoustic strums carrying on Hannah Read’s musings.  It’s an album of relentless forward musical movement even if the vibe feels like it’s always looking back over its shoulder.  Basically this album is what emo would sound like if it wasn’t made by the worst people in the universe.  

14. Shabaka and the Ancestors – We are Sent here by History

Jazz! Another great year for jazz (Asher Gamedze’s Dialectic Soul and Keefe Jackson, Jim Baker, & Julian Kirshner’s So Glossy and So Thin are with a strong group that just missed the cut).  In the midst of an excellent jazz renaissance (you gotta use super annoying words like “renaissance” when talking about jazz) Shebaka Hutchins remains my absolute fave of the bunch, and We are Sent here by History is probably my favorite thing he has put out so far.

13. Waxahatchee – Saint Cloud

While I really liked Waxahatchee’s low-fi emoish debut—American Weekend—I’ll readily admit I wasn’t much about the popier albums that followed, frequently jesting, honestly, that Allison was my preferred musical Crutchfield sister.  All that changed for me with Saint Cloud.  I’ve certainly drifted far off into country and Americana as I’ve aged, and it appears the same came be said for Katie Crutchfield.  These songs have a giddyup to them but they never break out into a gallop, allowing the strength of the melodies to carry them along across the plains, with just the right hint of twilight.  Saint Cloud is the sound of Patsy Cline if she played to roadside inns rather than the Grand Ol’ Opry.  

12. Neil Young – Homegrown

This was the hardest album to place on the list this year.  For starters, should it even count? Clearly I say yes.  While some of these songs have been available for over 30 years, as an album, Homegrown was a “new” release here in 2020, even though it was originally slated to come out in ’75 between On the Beach (my personal fave Neil record) and Zuma.  As a pure piece of music, is it better than most, if not all, of the records that follow? Of course yes.  But what does a new Neil Young record mean in 2020? As a thought experiment its fascinating.  Do we value this album within the musical context of 2020 or 1975? Fortunately, it’s an even more enjoyable listen than it is a thought experiment.  From the first strums of “Separate Ways” you’re like “oh shit, this is the vintage stuff.” Gentle amber acoustic numbers (“Try”) share space with electric stompers (“Vacancy”).  The best thing you can say about Homegrown is that if Neil had originally decided to release this instead of Tonight’s The Night, it would have fit right in amongst his unimpeachable run from Everybody Knows This is Nowhere up through Zuma.  A classic is still a classic, no matter what year it finally sees the light of day.  

11. Destroyer – Have we Met

Ah Dan Bejar, boy was I wrong about you.  I kinda got into Destroyer’s Rubies, I loved his contributions to Swan Lake and The New Pornographers, but yet when Chinatown started really making waves, I just couldn’t do it.  It was soft rock! I hate soft rock! I hate everything about it!  This preconceived notion wasn’t helped by the fact that I saw him open for the War on Drugs in Pontiac once and he was so drunk he could barely stand up and had to read his own lyrics from a sheet.  And yet, for some reason I never really gave up on it. I can’t tell you why exactly, but two summers ago Chinatown just slowly became my go-to for early morning / late afternoon strolls. I found comfort in giving myself over to its pillowy soft embrace / cheating on my own aesthetic judgments.  Now that I’m card-carrying Bejarhead, I greeted Have we Met with open arms, and I was not disappointed.  The synths glimmer, the guitars add just enough punch, and his lyrics remain sharp as ever.  Its fitting that this was the last concert I saw before the iron curtain fell.  The one thing I had always turned my back on ended up being the last memory of dionysian group enthrallment I had to carry with me out into the desert of social isolation.  Come back soon Destroyer, come back soon, everyone.

10. Deeper – Auto-Pain

Ladies and gentlemen, get ready, because post punk is back! I always say my favorite genre is ‘sad songs you can dance to’ but post punk is a close second.  When I was in college post punk underwent a bit of a renaissance in the form of Interpol (back when they were still good), Bloc Party (ditto), Franz Ferdinand, and a whole slew of British one hit wonders (Maximo Park, Futureheads, Art Brut, the Bravery).  Fortunately, as is always the case, what’s old is new again, and stark melodic bass lines, angular guitars, and moody introspective speak-singing are back in full force.  Of the three post punk bands gracing this here top ten (Deeper, Fontaines DC, and Crack Cloud) each has its own little slice of the generic pie.  Fontaines have the deep gloom of Interpol/Joy Division, Crack Cloud ripple with the staccato energy of Gang of Four, and Deeper have the wiry dancieness of, well, Wire. So long as leather jackets and black and white photography remain cool, there’ll always be bands like this, and thank god for that.  In a true sign o’ the times, I learned about this band from some random girl’s Tik Tok in my for-you feed.  She repped five bands, two of which are in my top three, so I was like, sure I’ll give this band Deeper a go.  God bless the internet.  Finally, Deeper get bonus points for naming a song “This Heat,” who I’ve been spending a lot of time revisiting this year, and whose spikey guitars are all over this record.  

9. The Flaming Lips – American Head

There are few things as satisfying in art as being genuinely surprised by a beloved artist you had given up as culturally dead.  Since putting out their last masterpiece (2009’s Embryonic) the Lips have put out a string of good, if inconsequential, albums that befitting the ethos of the band could best be described as half baked (The Terror, Oczy Moldy, and a series of collaborative experiments).  Basically, they had reached that dreaded nadir where I was no longer interested in listening to their new output (cough The National, cough cough Arcade Fire).  So what made me give American Head a chance? That reader, is the point of art criticism! I can’t remember how the blurb on pitchfork read exactly, but I knew it referenced Tom Petty and a return to a preoccupation with more Earthly concerns—namely ‘70s heartland rock.  Well, this sounded intriguing, and boy was I not disappointed.  Sure, the Flaming Lips have already reached their sell-by date twice over (first in 1992, immediately followed by their MTV reinvention on 1993’s Transmissions from the Satellite Heart; and then again in the late ‘90s with the departure of guitarist Ronald Jones, followed by their creative pinnacle, ‘99’s symphonic masterpiece The Soft Bulletin), so it shouldn’t be all that surprising that this band could rise from the dead a third time.  Only, for the most part, they didn’t.  I guess I’m not surprised that American Head failed to reach a broader audience. Most people probably aren’t even aware that they are still a going concern, and after the failures of the last decade it makes sense that most weren’t interested in more tunes from the Oklahoma freaknicks.  But for those willing to give the band another chance, American Head easily delivers their best album since Embryonic, if not all the way back to Yoshimi.  Mixing ‘70s Americana with the star gazing of Soft Bulletin’s “Sleeping on the Roof,” the Lips deliver their best album in decades by foregoing the parlor tricks and returning to what they do best, taking trips to distant galaxies while keeping their feet firmly planted in the soil and songcraft of Oklahoma.

8. Cut Worms – Nobody Lives Here Anymore

This one is pretty easy.  Do you like George Harrison’s All Things Must Pass? If yes, listen to Nobody Lives Here Anymore and revel in this double album’s upbeat acoustic rock mediations.  If no, well there’s plenty of other good stuff out there.  Not quite as metaphysical or orchestral as All Things Must Pass, Nobody Lives Here Anymore still manages to hit that rockabiliy-pop sweet spot that Harrison used to mine.  I’m not quite sure what the definition of “troubadour” is, but it feels safe to call Cut Worms a troubadour, which is certainly better than his terrible stage name.  

7. Cigarettes for Breakfast – Aphantasia

Similar to Cut Worms, Cigarettes for Breakfast also involves a simple influence equation.  Do you pray at the altar of Loveless? If so, Aphantasia is just the record for you.  Sure, it’s a bit of My Bloody Valentine paint by numbers (“Breathe” even features the same squally guitar noise [it’s really hard to try and describe My Bloody Valentine effects ha] as “Soft as Snow (But Warm Inside)”) but when you’re as into shoegaze as I am, that’s never really a bad thing.  Plus, I’m being a bit unfair.  Everyone with textured tremolo heavy wall-of-sound guitars and cooed vocals is going to inevitably be compared to MBV, and Cigarettes for Breakfast do enough to chart their own course.  Perhaps most interesting is the musical journey this record charts.  Its loudest moment is its opening, where pummeling guitars more reminiscent of Sonic Youth with a touch of Dinosaur Jr. rip across hardcore style drumming. From there each song becomes a little more ambient, until closer “If Someone Could Help Me, Please” more or less floats away on its shimmering sheets of beautiful noise clouds.  In this sense, it bears a resemblance in structure, if not in sound, to Deerhunter’s Cryptograms, another album I spent a lot of time revisiting this year.  A shutout here is owed to the fine folks at Radio K, who had me diving for my shazam as this thing ripped across their airwaves.  So long as there is college radio, there’ll be a new crop of kids discovering via Kevin Shields that the electric guitar contains endless sonic possibilities.  

6. Fontaines D.C. – A Hero’s Death

The second entry in our top-ten post punk trio is A Hero’s Death by Fontaines D.C.  I’ll admit, on first blush it’s kind of a dumb band name (I just assumed they were some hardcore band from Washington DC chasing those Dischord Records glory days), but when you learn that the “DC” stands for Dublin City, it all clicks, as this band is sorta inescapably Irish in the way that James Joyce is.  Now this fact at first was also off-putting—if I went the rest of my life without ever hearing the Dropkick Murphy’s again I’d be quite content—but eventually it becomes integral to their sound, and not just because of the brogue in Garin Chatten’s vocals.  “Love is the Main Thing” is an incredible song in many ways, most notably because of the hypnotic quality of the drumming with its counterpoint between riding cymbal and staccato toms, but perhaps in the main (*wink*) for the way it manages to connote the weariness of a grey urban environment without ever being explicitly about it.  Just as Turn on the Bright Lights managed to perfectly capture New York in 2001, A Hero’s Death to me is the aural equivalent of a dense urban center like Dublin, especially after nightfall.  

5. Imaginary Softwoods – Annual Flowers in Color

It should come as no surprise that I listened to A LOT of ambient this year, and to me there was no better electronic record to chill the fuck out to during this insane year than Annual Flowers in Color.  I absolutely loved Emeralds’ Does it Look Like I’m Here? and was devastated they never followed that gem (*wink*) up.  In the immediate aftermath of the demise of Emeralds Mark McGuire’s solo albums got a lot of attention, but apparently the person I really loved in Emeralds was Imaginary Softwoods’ John Elliot.  Annual Flowers in Color is like if Dead City’s, Red Seas, Lost Ghosts were waiting in the departure’s lounge of Eno’s airport.  At the heart of the album lies the 10 plus minutes of “Another First/Sea Machine.” I could listen to this song forever, and on some particularly WTF 2020 lakewalks I more or less have.  Chunky synths, arpeggios that drift off to infinity, ‘80s soundtrack nostalgia.  I could live in these Softwoods for the rest of my sonic days.  

4. Pottery – Welcome to Bobby’s Motel

In another moment of nostalgia for my college years, Pottery are a welcome return to weird ass experimental Canadian bands.  They don’t sound anything like the Unicorns, but in spirit Pottery kind of remind me of them.  I’ve spilled a lot of digital ink here and elsewhere bemoaning the fact that Pitchfork (or perhaps, me) isn’t cool anymore, and to me no band embodies this more than Pottery.  They take a bunch of fun disparate elements—Talking Heads dance art rock, periodic weird pitch shifted vocal effects, hazy deep purple style guitars, and Queen style machismo disco—throw them into a witch’s cauldron, and come up with something off the wall that sounds like nothing else but is also instantly familiar.  This is the type of thing Pitchfork would have been all over in 2007, but instead now they’re too busy chasing conde nast clout clicks.  Oh well, nothing gold can last. But enough negativity, this here is a celebration of the joy of new music, and no new band embodies that unbridled joy like Pottery.  Along with Fontaines DC, this is the band I wish I most could have bopped around to with a bunch of sweaty strangers in the 7th St. Entry or Turf Club.  You can just imagine the call and response vocals and funky grooves getting the people moving.  Oh well, hopefully we’ll soon all be rocking the vaccine, they can breeze through town, and I’ll be the first person on the dance floor embarrassingly pumping my fist a half beat behind the rhythm.  

3. Pure X – Pure X

To paraphrase Same Elliott in the Big Lebowski, sometimes there’s a band, and well, sometimes there’s a band.  For me this year, that band was Pure X.  I absolutely loved their debut Pleasure way back in 2011, when lo-fi reverb heavy slow guitar music (ie, Galaxie 500) was all the rage. Their follow up Crawling up the Stairs was so bad I didn’t even bother listening to Angel, though perhaps that also owed a decent amount to just how terrible the art on that record is.  (I’ve since remedied this mistake; turns out that record rules).  Being that as it may, I can’t particularly tell you what drew me in to this year’s self-titled album, a full nine years after Pleasure first graced the stage.  In one sense it’s probably because Pleasure is one those albums that just never went out of my rotation.  Whenever the fahrenheit tips past 90 and the walk to the bodega is a few blocks longer than you’d like, that record always hits the spot.  Maybe I just knew this was the record I needed this year.  Either way, from the first bars of “Middle America” I was hooked.  The guitars crash over you, but never in a threatening way. Rather, they envelop you like a weighted blanket, comforting you in their sonic embrace.  Nowhere is this more true than on “Fantasy,” easily my favorite song of 2020 (especially since this was a year entirely devoid of dance floor bangers).  If this album came out in 1999 rather than 2020 I would have hit the repeat button on my discman and listened to this song forever.  

2. Crack Cloud – Pain Olympics

Pain Olympics is the answer to the question that no one asked: what if Arcade Fire’s (back when they were good) communal uplift was paired with Gang of Four’s stark anthem’s of industrialism’s collapse?  While on first blush this might sound like your standard album of punkish fist pumping angst, from when the female vocals (sorry there are too many people in this band for me to be able to figure out whose who) come in on opener “Post Truth (Birth of a Nation)” Pain Olympics reveals itself to be a very strange animal (likely a unicorn of some sort), especially as little orchestral swirls creep into the mix, giving it an almost Judy Garland (in hell) quality.  This subtle genre pastiche is given its best effect on stunner “The Next Fix.” That song starts out as an elastic spoken-word call and response addiction rumination, at the minute mark it starts to segue into a vocoded chill raver, then some horns crop up out of nowhere, then a spoken word passage, then at the two minute mark a chorus of voices come in, doing their best Broken Social Scene in the truest sense of the phrase.  This is perhaps one of the strangest records I’ve ever heard, but what is strangest of all is just how beautiful it is.  Crack Cloud are not for everyone, but if you really give it a chance, the returns are limitless.  

1. SAULT – Untitled (Rise) / Untitled (Black Is)

You cannot tell the story of 2020 without SAULT, which is why this pair of records is here at the top, even if under the influence of sodium pentothal (lets be honest, veritaserum) I might lean more towards Pain Olympics.  In June, the “anonymous” London project put out Untitled (Black Is), and then quickly followed that gem up with September’s Untitled (Rise).  Perhaps more amazing still is that these two albums, released so close together, have unique personalities.  Black Is is more pop/R&B whereas Rise has a dancy, electr(on)ic feel.  I lean more towards the latter, but honestly, both albums are so overstuffed with amazing moments that it’s borderline unbelievable that one outfit could put out so much amazing music in such a short span.  While these records would chart high even if sung in Hopelandic, there’s no escaping the social import of the lyrics.  One need look no further than Black Is’s “Don’t Shoot Guns Down” for the 2020 dance party at the end of the world.  As if that weren’t more than enough, it finds its analogue on Rise’s “Street Fighter,” and that’s SAULT in a nutshell: two albums in constant communication with one another, and more importantly, with the state of the world.  Guns down.  Don’t Shoot.  Let’s dance.  

[no6secretsanta]

Snakes and Mice

{To: @moyarambles

From: @happykawaiicinnamonroll

Hope this satisfies your fantasy needs!}

Snakes love to eat meat from small animals. Mice are no exception.

Nezumi too had the feeling that he attracted all kinds of snakes. However most of them were human and usually annoying and sketchy. But he had no choice. His job as an adventurer acquires him to deal with many different people. Some he can stand and others he cannot.

The only thing he could do was keeping his mouth shut and do the "quest". After all he didn't want to end up as their prey.

However he would be lying if he said he hadn't killed the one or another client. And even more so if he called himself a saint.

Nezumi was a thief, fast and clever.

"Snakes" were his enemies.

~

It was a sunny day but there was no light in the dark and foggy forest Nezumi was in.

The trees there were at least five times taller than him. They overshadowed everything with their crowns made out of leaves and bird's nests.

Even with his oil lamp he could barely make out anything because of the thick fog. Nezumi had to depend on his other four senses.

He was rather slow as he made his way through the wood, highly cautious towards his surroundings.

Not even the rotten smell in his nose threw Nezumi off. Many people, mostly careless ones, died in that forest. That place was cursed.

However he had a job to do. Also it wasn't like this was his first time here. Although it probably was his longest stay.

One more hour and he would hit the 24 hours, a whole day.

Nezumi had not expected to be in that dark place for that long. He really needed to get out soon before his oil and nutrients were all gone.

Finally he could feel something wet underneath his boots and a light breeze grazing his cheeks. Behind his scarf his lips curled upwards into a smirk. At long last he had reached it.

The so called heart of Dunkelwald was right in front of him.

The man was on high alert as he recalled all the stories -- rumours, really -- he heard about that place.

How it had swallowed people and they were never to be seen again. Or if they did leave not without a curse.

Nezumi also heard of rare creatures living there. Some dangerous others shy. One in particular was on his mind. A blood red snake which tasted delicious when cooked and also made the eater turn into whatever they wanted.

Inukashi had ordered him to get one and he would not let him down.

He was not going to leave this cursed forest without it.

It looked like luck was on his side after enduring in that dark place for so long.

A small red line wrapped around something white. If it weren't for the bright colours Nezumi might not have spotted it. The light was too dim.  He had to step closer to see better. His heart felt a tiny stab over the sight of a snake choking a mouse. In a quick movement he picked them both up.

After casting a spell to paralyze the two animals he put them in his bag. To his relief the mouse had moved. It was still alive. The snake didn't kill it.

However Nezumi did not notice that there was something strange about the mouse. Not yet.

He was too busy rummaging through his bag. Once his hand grabbed a certain tiny round object he pulled it out. It was a teleport orb or rather an escape orb. This item allows you to leave a so called "dungeon" and lets you appear on the very spot you have entered.

Nezumi was about to use the orb when he heard something. A quiet rustle on his left. As carefully as possible he turned to that direction. His lips curled upwards into a grin when he saw the source of the noise.

"Oh hello. Did you want to join your friend?"

The creature, a red snake stared at the man. Or more like glared.

"Oh pardon me. Of course you would want to be with your child." Right after saying that Nezumi cast another spell. But this time he chose one to make the snake fall asleep.

At the beginning he seemed to have the worst luck. Now he had not captured one but two snakes. Inukashi will be thrilled.

Nezumi put the big snake into his bag. After looking around he took out the orb and used it to leave the forest in the blink of an eye.

~~~

Once home he took out the animals from his bag. To his relief the snakes were still unmoving. However the mouse had woken up and was now looking at Nezumi. Its eyes were red contradicting its white fur. Upon closer inspection in a better light he realised that the snake on the rodent was actually a scar.

If it hadn't been for the real red snake attacking him and him capturing it he would had been forced to go back to Dunkelwald.

"And there I thought I would get some extra cash," Nezumi remarked in his mind. For some reason he couldn't keep his eyes of the mouse. He even snorted because the mouse was branded with the image of its enemy. It was too ironic.

All of a sudden the man began to talk to the rodent, "You know. I could sell you too. Bet you would fetch a nice price."

The albino animal flinched over his words. It seemed to understand him.

"Do not fret," Nezumi continued, "I won't sell you." He then let out a whistle.

Before the mouse knew it it was surrounded by its own kind. Three pairs of eyes stared at it in curiousity.

As the mice were getting acquainted the adventurer made a light meal for himself and even prepared a plate with some cookies for his furry friends. The four rodents devoured their food with eagerness while Nezumi ate his in peace.

After they were all done the man washed the dirty dishes in a hurry. He then turned to the mice with a smile. "I gotta go again. Have fun."

With that said he left, but not without taking the red snake with him. His quest would only be fulfilled if he gave it to Inukashi. And that's what he was doing.

~

Normally red snakes were no longer than 25 centimetres. However this specimen was 37 centimetres long according to the tape measure from Inukashi.

"I knew I could count on you," he stated. "Although you took longer than usual it was worth the wait."

Nezumi rolled his eyes. "I was in the deepest part of Dunkelwald. What did you expect?"

"You're right. Just last month a boy around your age got swallowed by the forest," Inukashi told the other as he watched the snake wake up. He then quickly cast another sleeping spell on it.

"Oh. Its missing an eye."

The adventurer clicked his tongue. A missing eye meant less money. At least the eyes weren't the most expensive part of the red snake but they still landed a decent price.

"How much are you willing to pay?"

"Let's see... The snake is longer than usual... However it is missing an eye..."

Inukashi stared at the creature for a little while longer. He opened its mouth to look inside before he spoke up again, "40 silver coins. 37 for the length, 2 for the teeth and 1 for the eye."

Nezumi smirked. "Deal."

~~~

At long last the man could fall into his bed and get some much deserved sleep. Dunkelwald had not allowed him to rest even for a little. That's why he was planning to recharge the energy he had spent on getting through that dark place. No one could stop him.

His mice jumped onto the bed next to Nezumi's head. All except one.

The albino with the odd scar stared at the human. Its red eyes were glowing a little in the dark.

Patting on a free spot between the rodents, Nezumi invited the lone mouse to join them.

A moment later it hopped down on the very place and curled into a ball.

The adventurer watched the mice until he fell asleep.

Nine hours later Nezumi woke up to a rustling sound. He was quick to leave his bed and walk to the source of the sound. His eyes grew wide in surprise when he saw a boy around his age rummage through his cupboard. "What the hell..." The stranger turned around to Nezumi upon hearing something. When he saw the other his face coloured pink.

"I-I can explain," he stuttered out.

"Oh yeah? Well I can't remember having invited someone over." Nezumi walked up to the intruder and grabbed him by his white hair. "So what are you doing in my home, wearing my pants?"

As he stared at the boy he began to realise something. First, the other was an albino. Second, there was a red scar running from his cheek to his chest and perhaps further down. The scar was

like a snake. Similar to the snake Nezumi had caught and sold. But it was also like the scar the mouse had. If not the same scar.

"...Are you the mouse?"

As an answer he got a simple nod. The poor boy was too afraid to speak after he had gotten yelled at.

Nezumi was shocked. It was then that he remembered how the red snake had been missing an eye. Which brought him to the conclusion that the former mouse might have eaten it. "This can't be happening," he mumbled.

If only he had known that his trip to Dunkelwald would get him into this mess.

"Uhm... Sir?" the boy called out.

Nezumi groaned. "What is it?"  

"...Can I talk?"

He had only asked for permission to talk. But it made the adventurer recall how the mouse had understood him. It or rather he had reacted to his words. Normally an animal turned human shouldn't be able to speak with such ease right?

"Fine." Crossing his arms, Nezumi looked at the stranger. His grey pierced through the latter and made him gulp.

"Thank you Sir. Also I'm sorry for uhm taking your pants without permission? It's just I don't have any clothes on me at the moment."

Another odd thing. The boy knew of the importance of being dressed. Nezumi wondered if the mouse possessed a high IQ. Or at least a higher one than normal mice.

"You could have asked."

"But you were deep asleep and I didn't want to wake you," he retorted.

The adventurer clicked his tongue. "How courteous of you."

Finally he let go of the albino's soft hair. "Now let's get you some clothes."

The boy smiled at him. "Thank you Sir."

Nezumi shook his head. It gave him an odd feeling to be called Sir. "Just call me Nezumi please."

"Alright. Nezumi." A hand got stretched out towards the adventurer. "It's nice to meet you. I'm Shion."

"Shion..." His lips curled upwards into a small grin. "So you have a name? I was afraid I had to name you. Well that certainly saves trouble." He did not take Shion's hand.

The boy let out a sigh, something Nezumi didn't dare do. "Can we just get some clothes for me please?"

"Of course my majesty."

A blanket got drapped over Shion's shoulders.

"But for now you stay here and tell me your sizes in clothing."

He was given a smile of gratitude in return before the boy told him his sizes.

Nezumi nodded afterwards. "I see." He then grabbed Shion by his wrist and dragged him to his bed. To the adventurer's surprise and relief the other didn't resist. Not even when he made him sit down on the ground and tied his arms to the bed frame.

Shion just blinked, a confused expression crossing his face. "Uhm... Nezumi?" he called out in a rather soft voice. "What are you doing?"

"Making sure you won't do anything stupid while I'm away," the adventurer replied. "See you later. My mice will watch you."

~~~

Around an hour later, Nezumi returned with four huge bags. With a loud thud they landed in front of Shion.

"I see you behaved. Good," the adventurer remarked.

The albino grimaced a little as he gazed up at the other. "Not that I had much of choice." He turned his head to look at his tied wrists. Although the rope used to make him immobile appeared to be ordinary it wasn't. There was a strong spell casted on it plus the material was a rare one too.

Shion hadn't even tried to escape because he knew it would be pointless and harm him. So he hadn't risked it.

"Well then. I brought you some clothes as promised," Nezumi pointed out as he removed the magic rope. "You owe me. Big."

The albino nodded his head in reply. "Thank you." He then looked through the clothes. Nezumi had even been so kind to get him two pairs of shoes. However there was one thing missing.

"Uhm... Nezumi?"

"Yes?" The man went back to the other after he had given the mice a big cookie.

Shion took a deep breath. "There is... No underwear."

"So? We can buy some later," Nezumi retorted. "Or would you had prefered to wear some already worn underwear?"

Now that he had mentioned it did the albino notice that all the clothing wasn't new. But they still seemed to be in good condition. Another thing which made it clear to Shion that those are second hand are the smells of them. Some of them smelled like fabric softener the rest didn't.

"Oh..." He frowned.

Nezumi studied the other with a smirk. "So what will it be? Will you stay here, tied against bed pole or will you go shopping with me?"

The albino was quiet as he contemplated his options. "... I'll go with you."

~

After they had bought some underwear for Shion they went to Inukashi. The adventurer hoped that he might be of some help.

"Good timing! I have a brand-new quest for you-- Oh." The moment his gaze fell on the albino he went quiet. But a moment later he cracked a joke. "We're not buying humans. Try the slavery a few stands farther."

Nezumi rolled his eyes. "No thanks. I actually wanted to know more about the snake I sold you."

"The red snake? I used it for some potions. They've been really popular. So much so that they're sold out," Inukashi told him. "Did you need one? I'm afraid I haven't kept a spare one for you. Next time okay?"

"That's not it either." Nezumi then shoved Shion in front of him. "Remember how the snake had been missing an eye? I suspect he ate it."

The salesman looked at the individual presented to him. "Now that you mention it, his scar reminds me of the snake."

Inukashi put his chin in his hand. "How interesting."

"Uhm..." Shion got a little uncomfortable from the staring. As if he was a statue in a museum. Only made to be gazed at.

Nezumi wrapped an arm around the smaller male. "Yes. You see..."

He then told Inukashi how he had met the other and that he had been a mouse before turning human.

"...I see. So that's how it is." The salesman was sitting cross-legged on a chair, one hand on his left knee.

"And now you're trying to figure out what to do? How to turn him back?"

"No!" Shion shouted all of a sudden. His sudden yell startled the two other men.  

Inukashi gawked at the albino as if he had grown two heads all of a sudden. "You can talk? And understand us?"

"I can."

"But you're a mouse! Well, you were," the salesman retorted.

For some reason a dark expression crossed the other's pale face. "I know. You see--"

"Hold up!" Nezumi demanded. "I think I understand now." He then locked eyes with Shion. Cold grey met hot red.  

"You had actually been human before but got turned into a mouse. Is that correct?"

The albino nodded after a while. "That's right."

"So... We don't need to turn him back? Just leave it as is?" Inukashi concluded.

Nezumi's lips curled upwards into a half-grin. "That's how it is now."

It was then decided that Shion stayed with his "saviour".

~~~

Four months passed in which Nezumi got used to living with someone else besides his mice.

During this time he learned a lot about the other.

Shion was a light sleeper but rarely moved. He didn't snore either.

Often times Nezumi would catch him staring off into the distance, looking out of the window every chance he got.

It appeared to him that the albino was longing for something or someone. Probably his old life.

However Shion did not complain about his new situation. In fact he was grateful to Nezumi for giving him this opportunity.

As it had turned out his new roommate was a pretty skilled archer and could use a type of magic he had never seen before (although Shion rarely casted spells). Once the adventurer had discovered this he had started taking him on quests are letting him do a few alone even.

They both profited from each other. But that didn't change the fact they barely knew anything. Four months just weren't enough.

~

After a tough quest Nezumi was in the underground market while the albino rested at home.

He was talking to Inukashi when someone called out to him. "Nezumi? Is that you?"  

The adventurer turned around at that.

"Oh hey Safu!"

In front of him stood a girl who was dressed as a typical witch. Her spells were average but what really stood out were her potions, ailments and similar things. Sometimes she made some for Inukashi.

Safu gave the salesman a decent filled bag before she looked at the other man again. "How about we have some dinner and talk? Food's on me."

"I can't possibly let a lady pay for me," Nezumi retorted, denying her offer. "Let's just pay for our own meals."

"So just like always. Boo." Her expression changed into a sulking one. However there was something else. Something gloomy.

The adventurer would question her about it later. If she was ready to talk about it. He didn't want to force her.

Shaking his head, Nezumi then offered, "How about I let you choose the place?"

In an instant Safu's face brightened up. "I was hoping you'd say that." She then grabbed the other by his arm and dragged him away.

~

Soon enough the two sat in a café. Apart from them were only three other people.

Once they had sat down a woman walked up to the two individuals. The name written on her apron was the same as the café's so it was safe to assume that she was the owner.

"Hello Safu. I see you're not alone her today." She gave them a welcoming smile.

Safu mimicked her expression. "This is Nezumi. He's a good acquaintance of mine. Nezumi meet Karan."

"It's a pleasure to meet you Nezumi. Just call me Karan. And yes this café belongs to me." She was smiling yet the adventurer didn't miss the bitter note in  it. Same with his company. There was something sad and ... longing in their eyes.

Nezumi nodded. "The pleasure is mine Karan."

After Karan had taken their orders and left the man leaned closer to Safu.

"So, what happened? Something is definitely up."

He frowned at her. Even if they weren't friends per se he still cared for her to a certain extent. And if he could help her he would. Although it depended on what Nezumi had to do and which price to pay.

Safu let out a deep sigh.

"Guess I can't fool you huh?"

She played with her pendant as she thought about her next words.

"...This necklace was a present from my childhood friend. He... He disappeared a few months ago."

It was then that he remembered Inukashi mentioning it before. A boy who wasn't able to leave Dunkelwald.

"My condolences."

Nezumi knew these words weren't enough but he had to say something.

His company shook her head. "I just wish he's safe wherever he is... Although it's naive and stupid."

The adventurer was about to open his mouth but closed it when Karan returned to their table.

"Here you go."

Food and drinks were set in front of the two.

"Thank you Karan!" Safu smiled at her.

However the woman noticed that something was wrong with the younger female. "Why the long face Safu? Is Nezumi rude to you? Do I have to kick him out?"

"No, it's alright," she reassured the older one, "I just told Nezumi about Shion."

Shion. Just like his roommate! How odd.

"...Is he your relative?" Nezumi asked her.

Karan nodded with a smile.

"He's my son."

She was happy about the fact that the adventurer had used present tense and not past tense. It made her feel better, if only a little.

"I hope you too enjoy the meal. Also don't worry about the bill. It's on the house."

As soon as the woman had left he turned to Safu. "You little… You schemed this."

"I have no idea what you're talking about." The girl chuckled.

Nezumi rolled his eyes. "You're impossible."

He was about to take a bite from his cake when the door to the café got opened in a quick and rather violent way.

"Everest is under attack!" a man shouted which made the adventurer freeze.

After all he had told him bad news about the very village he lived in.

Even though he would've loved to try Karan's pastries he had to abandon it.

Safu was right behind him as they raced to Everest.

~

Hundreds of monsters were harming the village with its inhabitants. Half of the place was engulfed in flames and destroyed beyond compare.

It was a sight Nezumi would never forget and always revive in his nightmares.

He did his best to keep the monsters at bay and keep the villagers as safe as possible in such a dire situation.

All of a sudden the flames had surrounded him, Safu and a couple others in a full circle. They had no way to escape because of the high and thick wall of fire.

Nezumi and others casted various spells to the best of their abilities to fight it and the monsters.

But they grew weaker with every use of magic.

Things seemed hopeless.

All of a sudden Shion stood before him. However something was different about him.

"Shion?" Safu called his name.

There was a flash of light which blinded everyone.

Nezumi could make out some fluffy tails behind the albino before they disappeared with the light. Most of the monsters had gone knocked down from that attack.  

After fighting of the remaining enemies it was over.

Shion then turned around to the adventurer and smiled at him. A moment later he collapsed.

[spell406]

So, a friend of mine basically forced me to watch at least one episode of Netflix Castlevania.

(Disc - I am new to tumblr and had a little problems with posting this thing correctly. Sorry for spam)

So I watched one. And then another. And another… When I finished it was 3 a.m., my eyes were burned out, my brain fried, and my soul forever forfeited, but whatever, who need it anyway.

I am new to the universe, and I know that I am something like 10 months late to the review party, so instead I decided to just share a bunch of thoughts of mine. [UPDATE – Because I am extremely heavy procrastinator and it took me almost two weeks to write this thing I am already at 50% of SoTN right now I’ve finished SoTN by now]

First of all – Castlevania looks like anime, but shares almost nothing common with it. It was a relief, to be honest, as I was a little afraid of show being just another shounen with specific set of clichés and similarities that might quite not bad (or even enjoyable), but I’ve seen them too many times before – better or worse executed – to watch without a mild nausea another Bleach/Naruto in a darker scenario.

I would never demand a fantasy world to be realistic. Like, who would do, fantasy world is supposed to be… fantasy, right? I am fine with lack of realism but I can’t say the same about lack of common sense, and there is a matter of logic that I personally find quite funny. When you are about to fight in close quarters with someone, with both of you lives on stake you’ll want to use every possible advantage. In general there are two kinds of battle armors – first one is focused on providing maximum protection (like typical medieval plate armor) and second one designed to grant freedom of movement especially critical in usually legwork-heavy duels. And here are our “battle” priests in gowns. Gowns, that manage to provide neither aforementioned advantage and downsides of both. Heh. It just bothers me too much, honestly.

I really love the flow of narration; the way that every character including antagonists has its own set of motives and reasons, even Carmilla has her own background that is convicting to justify her bitchery (Well, she has seen it before, right? And Dracula wasn’t even trying to hide his apathy, so why would she like to watch as dead man wages his hollow war)(Is it only me or Dracula shows typical signs of severe depression? Apathy, lack of strength to take any decision, not taking care of himself, loss of interest – even in his own war – well, to be honest he has a good reason to do so).

Animations. Ah, that one is unquestionably excellent, although you Powerhouse Animation guys could have make use of an additional 4-5 fps – from time to time I had a feeling that there is a cat sitting on my keyboard’s space bar, pausing and starting show over and over - it happened something like two or three times. If it comes to favorite scenes – for me, it would be first meeting and fight between Trevor and Alucard. The dialogue and music is so good at reflecting rising pressure and tension between those two – let put oneself in Trevor’s boots – just day before he was rather concerned about getting some food/drink and move on and now he is standing against something that he now considers to be last boss of his life, or perhaps not, he doesn’t even know how does Dracula looks like and he doesn’t seem to be openly aggressive, or perhaps yes, he is obviously vampire and he seems to doesn’t like Belmont name, on the other hand even lesser vampire might be not so easy foe and he is kinda out of practice, and Sypha doesn’t feel like helping out, at least for now… It is all just perfect, and the sound track alone is stuff of legends. (Season 2 OST on Spotify WHEN??”)

Second best would be first phase of Dracula fight – the way which they are team working fluently to not let eachother get killed pleases my inner maniac in best possible way, although the 1 vs 1 part is kinda downgrade - but still ok.

But there is one thing that really stands out in best possible way from things I’ve seen before and that’s utilization of facial expression and body language. Like seriously, this combined with really outstanding voice acting bring interactions between characters to another damned level. (Unfortunately, national translation and voice acting is so awful that I couldn’t bear myself to finish even first season). There are few thing I consider more important in creating credible character than combining overall expressiveness and voice acting, the ability to tell words without actually using any (Finding Ciri cinematic in Witcher 3 is perhaps best known to me example) - and Castlevania does it just soooo good.

Dracula generals. When they were shown for the first time I was like “oh boy he has summoned generals, (Generals! Master tactician, the artists of war!) the oldest, most cunning and powerful beasts from entire world, now things are going to get rough.” And how did it turned out? I can understand that Dracula tasked his forge masters with overseeing the war (Although his reasoning was kind of ok, good job Dracula for nominating for executives two people, that knew least about proceeding war) Did they were incompetent so much? Then how did they managed to get their titles, if they were just a bunch of endlessly whining mischief-makers? They were supposed to know how war looks like, and how to do one, but instead they did literally nothing for war effort! If you ask me, that is at least one risen eyebrow. Excluding Godbrand, the only member of council that did anything more than grate his teeth in silent anger, killed some civilians and got taken care of quite effortlessly. Also, Godbrand wasn’t made to be the sharpest knife in a closet, but he still was bright enough to ask himself “What will we do when we’ll win a war?” Also, he managed to notice that there were no real plan to follow... That is +1 to you Godbrand, I’ll miss you my vikingy boi. In the end, if they were meant to be just a background, they did get a little too much of screen time, and if they were not, they got faaaaaar from enough of it.

By the way – not sure if it’s only me but I personally think that Trevor might be keenest (or – at least – not dumbest) of protagonist trio. He might lack classic education, but he is careful watcher (he noticed fresh oil in torch and overall state of Alucard’s hideout), he correctly chosen and quite successfully executed strategy at Gresit square (isolate, divide and destroy) and quite steadfastly shrugged  off Alucard bickering (well, most of times). Also, his plan for battle with vampire generals was quite logical – avoid close quarter cause humans are in general more fragile than vampires, and Alucard as frontline. My inner maniac was most pleased.

As I said before, I really enjoy Castlevania’s overall character design but with an exception of bishop of Gresit. There is no reason for his work, I know that he is insane and reasoning usually does not apply to those like him but I feel like there is no reason in villainy (this entire talking about making a God’s own country – well, I don’t buy it), aside of being genuinely baaaaad, which kinda stands out in negative way in comparison to the rest of characters.

To highlight the issue, lets do some roleplaying here:

The night creatures are ravaging the land that you had sworn to protect in unholy war against humanity, killing women, men even your subordinates alike. The citizens are growing restless, and demand taking an action. How do you proceed?

a) Find the last descendant of family known for their prowess in fighting those beasts; but be wary – he doesn’t seem to like you very much after you branded him as heretic, exterminated his entire family and burned down his home (probably with some of aforementioned family still inside it). However, if you nicely ask for help, reverse the curse, apology for making mistake and return the estate it actually might work. (to be honest that could be quite interesting moral choice for Trevor, to help people of Wallachia and let bishop take all glory or decline the bishop proposition and screw people over in the process)

b) You can fight them, you are the Holy Church after all. You have access to unlimited supply of holy water, relics, you have enough money and authority to arm and train people’s militia properly. Your knowledge of those beasts might be as wide as Belmont family, but at least should be sufficient to minimalize the damage. Killing the Dracula, however, might be impossible for you.

c) You spent most of your time on biting, trashing, or looking for anyone to cast entire blame upon; it doesn’t matter who is that poor bastard as long as it is not you. In addition, you…

AAAAARGH I CAN’T CONTAIN MYSELF ANY LONGER! BROTHER, I DON’T FEEL LIKE I AM   WICKED ENOUGH! I REQUIRE TO SEE SOME SUFFERING OF INNOCENT TO FEAST UPON! WHAT DO YOU SAY, BROTHER? I CANT HEAR YOU OVER RAGE BOILING IN MY VEINS! WHAT, SPEAKERS? OF COURSE THEY WILL DO RAAAAAARRGARGAJGIOGJIHKBYIUOL

Oh well.

Well, looks like I am done here. By the way, sorry for my English, I am not a native speaker (If I’ve commited any spectacular crime against vocabulary/grammar let me know on priv).

Now I’m going back to rewatching show and torturing SoTN

No TL:DR, just read it if you want, it is not an entire book, you know.

[zealoptics]

The Outsiders by ZEAL Rider Ian Wood

Words by **[Ian Wood](https://www.instagram.com/eanwood/)** | Photos by **[Jordan Ingmire](https://www.instagram.com/jordaningmire/)**

The sound of explosions stir me from a deep slumber. The bombs may be going off thousands of feet away but the blasts shake me from my dream world. Barely awake I sit up to investigate the violent action, bouncing my head off the bunk above. The “rude” awakening knocks me back down, a dry mouth from the propane heater running off and on all night reminds me where I am. Rubbing my eyes to adjust to the light, and a quick pull of the window blinds, reveals a winter wonderland. The bombs that stirred me from my fantasy world are the result of hard working ski patrollers doing their best to keep us safe from avalanches in the available side country. Comfortably nestled in my 16 foot tiny home, I am amidst the cascade mountains in Washington state. From the looks of my neighbor RV’s we have received a healthy amount of fresh snow over night. Rolling out of my bunk and placing my feet on the noticeably cold floor sends a quick signal to my brain that its going to be nice blower pow. Where are my slippers?. . . It’s 7 o clock in the morning and the chairs don’t start spinning until 9. With the resort lifts and split board trails being accessible out my front door I have plenty of time to get ready. Living in a trailer in the parking lot of a resort, you build morning routines. So much time spent by yourself allows you the freedom to do what you want, when you want. Meditation has made it into the start of my day, followed by a nutrient packed fruit smoothie. Somedays I listen to an audio book or inspiring tunes, maybe a quick stretch, and then I put on my space suit for the wild frontier. Isn’t this what we are striving for our whole lives? - Complete freedom, nobody telling us what to do or how to live. Shouldn’t we be fine tuning physical/mental health with joy, adventure, and a lust for life? I chuckle to myself as I ponder the perspective of my life, how did I get here? - 32 years old, no kids, no wife, no mortgage or salary career, living in a trailer that is smaller than some peoples closets. If you were to write this down and read it to someone, they would feel sorry for me. If they were to see my smile or feel my energy as this pervasive lust for living, they just might question the way they look at life.

Growing up in a capitalist nation where economy is god, and success is based upon the amount of things you possess, I had all the proper training to be a compliant citizen. In the West at 5 years old we are shuffled through a school system that is based more on conforming than education. It appears to be preparation for the 9-5 world with a vibrant brochure selling the restricted life of a weekend warrior. All the tv shows portraying the “happy” rich people with all their possessions, living in big mansions, surrounded by “beautiful” people, contribute to a thorough brain washing. The deep irony is when these movie stars, symbolizing the ultimate success of the american dream, often end their own lives in misery. I can’t say how this country is viewed from the outside but it seems that a lot of foreigners come here in hope of acquiring financial wealth and pursuing this illusion. Interestingly enough this nation is comprised of foreigners. We are all immigrants except for the few indigenous natives who have almost been entirely snuffed out. The trouble begins when necessities are far surpassed and endless desires are sought one after the other. The core issue is these desires are never filled and endless consumerism runs rampant. A bi product of this foolishness is a nation that suffers from severe obesity and malnutrition simultaneously. Unfortunately the PNW of the United states is a major influence in this worlds over consumption. Amazon, Microsoft, Starbucks, and Costco are just a few of the fortune 500 companies located in Seattle. A city surrounded by natural wonder, with the pacific ocean on one side and the cascade mountain range on the other. I was right on track to be another cog in the wheel, another poor sap in debt living pay check to pay check. Buying a bunch of things I didn’t need, to fit in or look good in some one else’s judgement. This is one ideal this nation whole heartedly promotes. This constant hunger for more leaves the blind consumer in debt regardless of socioeconomic status. It’s easy to get lost in this society living beyond their means. Look at our national debt for reference as to how we are taught to spend money. From this path… I slowly strayed. The mountains called and as the famous John Muir quote states; I had to go!

Hindsight is always 20 20. Looking back, I can see the friends that pulled me back into the mountains saved my life. Being a product of the NorthWest was a blessing that was hard to fully realize. Some of the greatest outsiders and heroes to exist in the snow world, come from this area. Humans that forever changed the snowboarding world were located all around me and leading lives way outside the norm. They were more like professional dirtbags than Olympians. The skills to be trained into super athletes were there, but they chose to live a life of freedom and self expression. These professionals were less about selling out and more about expressing themselves freely, on their own terms. You don’t have to be a legend to enjoy a similar lifestyle, boarding as much as you can and working as little as you have to. The locals shaped me even more so than the legends. “You work - I ride”, so the saying goes. The slogan “work to live, don’t live to work” comes up often. These people that surrounded me spent their money in a very different manner. Extravagance was a “new” used vehicle that handled the snowy roads in a supreme way, or a rig that could transform into a sleeping domain. Maybe a new gizmo for snow camping or a fancy sleeping bag that packed small and was light. Simultaneously we were becoming more self sufficient and learning how to spend money wisely. I didn’t know it at the time, but these people I like to refer to as the outsiders, were shaping me. As I became an “adult” (I put it in quotations because I think it is absolutely insane that someone being an adult is based on age and not life experience) I came to realize that most people were lost. Year after year, the older they got the more confused they seemed to be. Their connection to what mattered in life slowly dwindled as they bought into the game. Work beat them down and a diet of processed food provided them with no fuel. Coffee delivers a quick blast of energy for a long drawn out day. The ever growing list of how society tries to fill the voids will leave your head spinning. For many years I have pondered, and even now it seems, that kids have it much more figured out than adults! Youngsters are happy chasing dreams and living for the moment. The beliefs that create their realities are still uninhibited, so they are able to enjoy the little things. Snowboarding takes me back to that mental clarity. Every time I strap in, my mind grows a little more silent as the moment zooms in to capture my attention. Pushing skills to a new level can cloud the mind with fear. Making the decision to trust in your ability clears the sky and locks you in where time stands still.

The people I meet in the NW have inspired me to leap into more than just snowboard specific adventures. Every aspect of one’s life effects the other and it’s best to be well rounded. Adventures of every kind can be linked to snowboarding in one way or another. Learning how to navigate the world and trust in your life skills to get you where you need to be is one example. From Yoga, to skateboarding, even dancing, it all can help you with self expression and in turn improve the picture you paint on a board. I started the winter season going to a 10 day silent meditation retreat with photographer/best bud Jordan Ingmire. This shared wisdom solidified the lessons learned from snowboarding. The present moment is the only reality. As soon as we add thoughts or words to things, we have strayed. Our minds are trained in this society to constantly be thinking about the future or the past. Focused on likes or dislikes, we form a craving for the things we desire and try to avoid the things we dislike. So constantly we are planning for the future, or revisiting the things that have already happened. We want more of the things we like and are upset when we get what we don’t want. Both of these judgements are illusions. The images with attached emotions either no longer exist or are an interpreted creation of the future. All of our thoughts around experiences are not truly reality. They are a merely a projection of the mind which in turn creates what we believe to be reality. So those moments while ripping down a line, or riding through a technical part of the mountain, are actually creating the silent mind that brings us closer to the truest reality. Wether you are taking a conscious deep breath sitting in a cross legged position or standing on top of a glorious mountain top, you are training the mind to be aware of what is going on inside of it. Slowly bringing awareness to our daily actions muffles the constant brain chatter and creates space for the only true reality- the present moment. Any one that has been terrified by the raw elements of a mountain has lived through this mind altering experience of a silent mind.

For the last several years I was caught in a whirlwind of dreaming and creation. Desires of achieving fantasies began to develop in my mind and expanded as I shared them with others. The winters had been very active with traveling, working on video projects, and getting caught up in the go go go, do do do. This winter I set out to focus on “being” more than “doing”. Starting the season off in meditation had a huge impact on how I wanted to spend my winter and what I felt was important to focus on. I decided I was going to spend the entire winter at home in the PNW. No distant travels, no video projects, and nothing more than immersing myself in the art of snowboarding. Whether it was with my best friends, the local community, strangers, or by myself, I found room for growth in all relationships. With the climate pattern rollercoaster ride we have been locked into in the NW, it was a risky move. Travel has always been a back up plan for winters that never show up. Japan in January, Alaska in April, the interior mountains of BC , Montana, Wyoming, allow for plenty of Plan B options. With travel comes planning, and with planning comes extensive mental activity. I wanted to get rid of all the things that add to the mind game of winter. That way I could find my place in the mountains with clear thoughts and tuned senses. We are constantly searching for connection to the moment as boarders and one of the best ways to help that process is to alleviate as much mental chatter as possible. I deliberately decided to put all of my eggs in one basket and whether winter came as I desired or not, I was staying and making the best of it. Worse case scenario you can always go adventure on your split board, walk for miles and search around corners you haven’t looked past before. The stars aligned as it became one of the best winters for Washington in many years, with cold temperatures and big storms that seemed to never end. The snow just kept stacking and the energy was high in the PNW. It was a season for the soul. One of those winters where you run into all your buddies on the hiking routes or skin trails. I found myself greeting friends with big hugs and thinking “you know what. . . there are friends on a pow day.” We were riding as many of our favorite lines as we could in one day. Lines that you sometimes only ride once a year because the conditions have to be just right, were getting ridden several times a week. No video cameras, no waiting to get the shot, no worries about landing a trick or how your style was; just pure intimacy with the mountains and the people sharing them with you.

As the planet rotates around the sun the seasons will change here in the PNW. Spring time comes with longer days and stronger ultra violet rays. The rivers flow with snow melt as photosynthesis sprouts new life on the hillsides. T shirts and open vents become common on the touring trails and chair lifts, as winter pow turns to spring corn. Fresh snow can bless us all the way into May, providing up to 7 months of possible fresh snow adventures. The park rats and split boarders rejoice as their favorite season is upon them. In the same day you can lap the park with friends and in the evening tour up to soak in breathtaking views. In strong winter seasons, such as this past one, you can extend your snow season year round. The list of volcanos in the area is long and the adventures bountiful. “Variety is the spice of life”; one of my favorite expressions. Living in the PNW I can’t help but completely agree with this notion. Summer comes and the thoughts of the year ahead are born in the stillness created in the absence of daily snow obsession. Sometimes I worry about what the future holds for the PNW snow lovers. Big money is pushing hard to suck the life out of the mountains. Solace and solitude are being replaced with high speed quads and 4 star hotels. Seattle is growing and you can see the reflection of it in the traffic to all of the hills. Will we just become another destination resort? Will the dirtbag locals living in their cars at the mountain be run off by people commuting 2 hours everyday? Only time will tell. I reflect back on lessons learned in the meditation hall. Be present here in the now, and let the thoughts pass like clouds in the sky. My judgement of what is best is just a figment of my imagination. For now the mountains in the PNW are full of life, love, and soul. Explorers, adventurers, athletes, party people, weirdos, musicians, artists, and of course the city people, all share these beautiful mountains. I hope that one day you have the opportunity to visit this majestic place I call home. We can easily be considered outsiders In a world where so many equate success and happiness to financial status. Every day we strap in we are representing the importance of something greater than that. Outsider: “a person who does not belong to a particular group.” There are enough of us here in the PNW that have formed a group of our own. We are the outsiders and you are welcome to join us.

Ian’s Top Picks

[SHOP ACE](https://www.zealoptics.com/en/shop/sunglasses/lifestyle-collection/ace "SHOP ACE") [SHOP FARGO](https://www.zealoptics.com/en/shop/goggles/select-series/fargo "SHOP FARGO")

Want more? Check out the below and follow Ian’s journey this winter @eanwood.

[randomfandomimagine]

Sunshine in the Moonlight Chapter 2: A Bump in the Road

Fandom: Final Fantasy XV

Pairing: Prompto x Alexandria (OC)

Previous Chapter - Chapter Index - Next Chapter

Wattpad - AO3

All I wanted to do was to mimic what Prompto did before and carelessly plop down on the ground, lying down and giving a rest to my sore muscles. But I wanted to appear unconcerned and serene. I merely leaned on the wall, catching my breath and resting in silence while Ignis and Noctis talked to Cindy, the mechanic that was repairing our car. I just hoped none of the boys felt like talking to me, because I was too exhausted to speak at the moment.

After the car broke down and we had to drag it to Hammerhead –being the gentlemen they were, the four of them insisted that a lady like myself shouldn't push with them, but I just couldn't stand there doing nothing while they did all the hard work -, we were all a tad moody and worn out. Luckily, the Regalia should be fixed soon enough.

On the other hand, we weren't so lucky seeing as we needed to earn some money to be able to pay for the repair. Definitely an unexpected turn of events.

"Gladiolus" I called him, hoping he would keep the conversation at a minimum.

He turned his head to me, his amber eyes confidently locking with mine.

"Gladio" He corrected me with a smirk.

I decided to ignore his comment and keep on speaking.

"Do we have to hunt so we can earn some money?"

"Yup, gotta show who's boss" He coolly crossed his strong arms over his chest. "Why? You scared?"

I knew he was teasing me, we had trained together many times after all. And Gladio definitely enjoyed winding me up, hoping to get a reaction from me.

"Of course I'm not! I just wanted to know, that's all" I replied, offended by his lack of faith in me. Gladiolus let out a smug chuckle, his smirk widening slightly.

"Now you know: we have to" He motioned over to the grease-monkey girl. "Cindy said it's what we need to do"

"What do you think about Cindy, Alexandria?" Prompto asked me, a curious twinkle in his vibrant blue eyes.

"She is pretty" I mumbled, feeling slightly jealous.

I was never a girl like Cindy was. Boys didn't stop to stare at me and neither did they consider me in that way. And seeing the four of them gawking at her -although mainly Gladiolus and Prompto -wasn't my cup of tea.

Surely, I had many talents other than outside beauty. And I had better things to worry about than romance, such as looking after my duties and trying to cultivate myself in mind and body. But it was always nice to be complimented and noticed.

My eyes darted from one man to the other when I realized they were staring at me in surprise. Had they never heard a girl compliment another girl?

"What?" I defended myself, shrugging in a carefree fashion. "Objectively speaking, Cindy is good-looking"

"Are you and Ignis siblings?" Prompto said all of a sudden. "You're so alike!"

"No!" I laughed, slightly flattered that he saw similarity.

Although it wasn't the first time such comparison was made. After all, we spent a lot of time together and not only did we have similar attitudes but also physical appearance.

Ignis' tawny hair resembled my own, except for the fact that mine was lighter. And my dark brown eyes had a hint of green in them like his emerald ones. But other than that, we were mainly alike in our demeanors. Still, that was only because I had always tried to be like Ignis.

He was an intelligent man, a selfless and elegant individual that I had always admired. Besides, in order to fit into the Royal Council I felt like I needed to be more like him, so I had always seen him as some sort of a role model.

"It definitely wouldn't be the first time we're mistaken for relatives" Ignis' voice said as he joined us, a bit of amusement dripping from it.

"What's up, Noct?" The blond asked the raven-haired prince as he arrived with Ignis.

"She gave us some money to stay somewhere and rest" The first one let out a resigned sigh. "But we still need to hunt to earn some more"

Of course we did. 

I turned around, rolling my eyes when I thought they couldn't see me, and started to walk away.

"I need some water" I sulked, heading for the diner.

Actually, I was in a really bad mood. It wasn't like I had expected in the least.

For starters, the car had failed us at the very start of our journey. It wasn’t a wise decision to let Prompto drive it, as we had to push the Regalia all the way and then wait until Cid and Cindy fixed it.

Also, Prince Noctis was whiny and just overall irritating to me. He didn't really care that much about anything, really, just about taking a good nap while the rest of us solved everything. 

Luckily, I was still in great terms with Ignis and Gladiolus.

"I'll go with you!" Prompto offered cheerfully, jumping up from his sitting positing in the ground. 

I didn't mind his company that much. He ended up being incredibly friendly, and actually made me smile in spite of myself with his witty and funny comments. Prompto turned out to greatly improve my mood with his bubbly personality.

The air conditioner that received us as soon as we walked into the diner made me let out an involuntary sigh of relief. It really cooled me down after the physical strain and the heat that we were under for quite a while there.

I sat in one of the red stools and patiently waited for the waiter to take our order. We didn't really have the money to get any food, but hopefully they'd serve us some water for free.

Prompto sat in the adjacent stool and swung his legs around like a child, which made me grin as well. As soon as the man came and asked us what we wanted, my companion spoke up for me.

"Two waters, please" He said, holding up two fingers.

Prompto then used his arms as a pillow as he rested his head on the counter, and I leaned mine on my hand as I rested my elbow on the surface. Still resting his cheek on the counter, Prompto turned his head to look at me.

"Great start, huh?"

"Delightful" I replied sarcastically, taking advantage that Ignis couldn't hear me.

He didn't really like when I was sarcastic, I couldn't understand why when he often was himself. Probably because I was being slightly passive aggressive and it was rude and disrespectful.

It had been a long time since I allowed myself to be sarcastic, though. I had learned some proper manners, and in the environment I was always in because of the king I had to keep a serious demeanor.

The waiter brought us two glasses of water, to which we both said thanks at the unison. Prompto drank his almost in one go, and I took a long gulp that greatly refreshed my dry throat.

"Can I... ask you something?" The blond piped up after a brief silence.

"I suppose..." I shrugged, taking another sip of my water.

"You don't... get along with Noct, do you?"

For a moment I was silent, not really knowing how to react to the sudden question.

"Uh... That's quite an improper question to ask, don't you think?"

"Sorry..." He just let out a light chuckle, even if he blushed a little.

There was a small pause in which none of us spoke. Prompto surely felt uncomfortable with the silence, though, because he piped up again.

"He's a really cool guy once you get to know him, trust me" Cautiously, he nudged me in the ribs, almost hoping he wasn't going too far. "You just need to give him a chance"

I would if ‘His Highness’ would give me a break and stop giving me death glares or annoyed looks as well as complaining about me. Not that we spent too much time together anyhow, but when we did and I commented something about his attitude to him he would snap at me. It had gotten to a point where Prince Noctis would roll his eyes at me if I as much as glanced at him.

"I believe you" I half-joked, really wanting to reciprocate about his happy-go-lucky attitude.

Prompto smiled broadly and then averted his eyes, looking through the windows. When I followed his gaze and realized he was looking at Cindy in admiration, I rolled my eyes and focused back on my water.

I drank the rest of it and sighed, hoping our journey from now on would develop in a more satisfying manner. I tried to be optimistic and tell myself that this was but a bump on the road.

Suddenly, my companion jumped to his feet and waved his hand around to catch my attention.

"Alex!" He called me absently. "We're ready to go"

He sprinted out of the diner, since I realized Gladiolus was gesturing through the window for him to move. I obliged in a daze.

I knew he hadn't even realized, but he had called me Alex, which left me bewildered. It had been a very long time since someone called me that, and the fond nickname brought me a wave of warmth that forced me to smile.

I followed after him, hopeful for the rest of our trip together.

  I wasn't too bothered by my black tight trousers nor by my leather boots, but I was certainly feeling strangled because of my thick patterned jacket. So I took it off and tied it around my waist, leaving me in my light gray t-shirt, tired of the scorching sun shining upon us.

"Are they supposed to be too far away now?" Prompto whined quite a bit too, and it was starting to get on my sulky mood.

I sighed tiredly as I brought my hands to my neck, attempting to braid my long wavy hair into a comfortable and practical braid.

"I believe there are our targets" Ignis stated, pointing over to a few scorpion-looking creatures.

"Let's get down to business" Gladiolus coolly said, holding his hand out until his big sword appeared right in front of it.

"Alright!" Prompto excitedly said, taking out his gun, ready to battle.

"Let's do it" Noctis looked over to me, almost defiantly.

That boy was about to see what I could do with a sword.

Before I could send him another challenging glare, he had warped to stand in front of the enemies, denying me any chance to do so. I huffed, knowing he had done it deliberately to wind me up.

"Reckless" Ignis smiled a little, finding that deed somehow endearing.

The three remaining men raced to get to the prince and give him some backup in battle, so I resigned myself. I took a breath with determination and made my slender sword to materialize in front of me. Perks of being a Lucian, even though I couldn't really warp strike like Prince Noctis. But the king had insisted on granting me that small power to aid me in the journey.

I smirked to myself, prepared for some action, and ran to catch up with the others. Although they were almost done defeating them, a new wave of scorpions arrived. My time to shine.

I approached the closest creature and swung my sword horizontally, hitting it and making it shriek in pain. The scorpion jumped at me in anger, but I was fast enough to take a small jump back to avoid being hit and easily parried the strike. With another thrust, the creature was easily defeated. I nimbly moved around, swinging my weapon in a circle and killing another one in one mere blow.

I could hear my companion’s small banter as they fought themselves, along with their pained grunts and heavy breathing. I continued to attack, parry and evade the hits while they assisted me in battle. In that manner, we got rid of the pest in no time.

"All done" Ignis concluded proudly when the last one fell.

I wiped the sweat off my forehead with the back of my hand as I calmly used the other one to get rid of the sword for the time being.

Calmly turning around to meet face to face with the boys, I realized that two of them were staring blankly at me. Prince Noctis and his friend Prompto. Come to think of it, they were the only ones that had never witnessed me during a fight. Gladiolus was in part responsible for my skills, taking in consideration he trained with me and showed me a way to improve myself. And being so close with Ignis, he knew about my swordsmanship as well. The prince and the blond, on the other hand, had no idea what I was capable of.

"I'm impressed" Came Prince Noctis' voice.

That definitely had to be one of the first –if not the actual first –times his voice wasn't dripping with sarcasm or mockery when addressing me. And he had just complimented me, in his own way.

"Thank you" For once, I decided to spare him the bitter comment too.

"Don't get too confident, Alexandria" Ignis warned me, always devoted to his unofficial role as my mentor. "It is but the first of many battles"

"That was so cool!" Exclaimed Prompto, finally closing his mouth, that he had agape in awe.

In fact, he held his hand up in the air for me to high-five him. Such a mundane gesture made me froze.

The rational part of me said that it went against all the principles that I was trying to represent as a member of the great King's Council. Also, I had been too focused on my purpose that it felt like years since someone last offered to high-five me. Which was quite sad and absurd.

Probably figuring I was somewhat stuck-up, Noctis high-fived his friend instead seeing as I took more than two seconds to respond. I tried to encourage Prompto with a small chaste smile, hoping he didn't notice my reluctance like his royal friend had. Noctis did, however, roll his eyes at me. In fact, so hard that for a moment I feared they would get stuck on his skull. He also shook his head in an exasperated gesture.

"We still have work to do" Gladiolus reminded me, enthusiastically patting my back as he passed by. He approached the two and began walking with them, saying something to Noctis about his form.

I sighed when the attention was diverged from me and nodded to myself. Truth was, I observed Prince Noctis, pleasantly surprised. In order to avoid getting Prompto's feelings hurt, he hadn't thought twice to intervene. Perhaps I had misjudged him, he seemed to care deeply about his friends despite it all.

I guessed that Ignis and Gladiolus wouldn't stand by his side if he wasn't worth it. Ready or not to take the throne, they saw something special in him. Special enough to follow him.

I still didn't like him, though.

"Is everything alright, Alexandria?" Ignis' voice startled me as he stood next to me.

"Why would you ask?"

"You seem tense"

"I'm not tense..."

Only when his gloved hand gently wrapped around my bare one, did I realize it was closed in a fist. Involuntarily, I had taken in a stiff posture. I let out a breath that I realized I was holding and opened my hands, cautiously looking up into his green eyes.

"Maybe a little..." I admitted, tilting my head to the side in resignation.

"There is no need to be so uptight, dear" I knew Ignis was concerned when he used such terms of endearment. While they weren't impossible to hear from his lips, it was definitely rare.

Luckily, I felt comfortable enough to confess my restlessness. One of the things that I was allowed to do in presence of King Regis was speak my mind. After all, it was my honest opinion what contributed to the counseling he sought from me. Even if it sometimes clashed with his own, but we both looked for the kingdom's best interest just like Ignis and the rest.

Being Ignis my friend as well, I wanted to share my unease with him. Most likely, I was making a great deal out of something truly small.

"Such a small gesture as a simple high-five... It... puzzled me" I confessed, feeling the need to avert my gaze. "It has been so long since I had such an everyday exchange like that… I froze, I didn't know how to act. Surely you wouldn't think less of me because of that"

"You've been put under a much greater pressure than I thought you were" Ignis scanned my expression, his green eyes laced with worry still. "You've been surrounded by politicians for far too long and it has become a burden"

"What do you mean?"

"You're too young to behave like a full grown-up, I believe"

I raised my eyebrows, understanding what he was trying to say. I had been too busy keeping appearances, almost losing myself along the way. I needed to relax a little and stop overacting over a simple high-five. I had, indeed, spent almost every second of the day surrounded by the Council, important and earnest people.

"It is a bit silly, isn't it?" I chuckled in the end, self-conscious all of a sudden.

"Take Noct, for instance" Ignis adjusted his glasses absently. "One year younger than yourself, Alex, but he rejoices in the small things"

Two 'Alex's in one day! Not to appear childish, I tried to hide the fact that it felt exhilarating to be addressed as something different than the dull 'Alexandria'.

I looked at the prince, just in time to see him being playfully pushed by Prompto. Noctis laughed and pushed him back, keeping the horseplay going.

"Are you saying I need to get myself a Prompto?" I joked, letting him know that the message he tried to deliver got through and that I was willing to obey it.

"Perhaps" Ignis laughed, a soft but genuine chuckle.

"Hey, Miss Adelaide!" Gladio shouted in the distance. "Are you coming or what?"

"Sorry!" I yelled back, holding my hand up and starting to walk to catch up with them.

"You can fulfill your duty and still remain true to yourself, remember that" My friend reminded me as we started moving.

"Thanks, Iggy" I observed him closely, studying his reaction.

Like I expected, his face lit up with the nickname. It had been so long since I last called him that as well! Perhaps our journey wouldn't be good for Prince Noctis only, but for myself as well. 

Tagging list: @prince-of-wind

[anthropophagusthebeast]

i don’t know what i want to write but i feel like i should. as soon as i started, i became distracted, beginning several different activities and abandoning them all with equal swiftness. having to be “in the mood” to write is such bullshit. i wish i could just sit down and start writing, instead of waiting for whatever my chemical problem is to snap back the other way so that i can artificially enjoy and therefore believe in what i’m doing. and then of course there is the matter of whether i’m not writing because i don’t want to, i don’t want to talk about what i have to talk about. maybe i don’t want things to change or get better. i don’t know if it’s because i have begun ketamine treatments, or if it’s a coincidence, but i startled myself the other day by wondering what i want life to be like when i’m better. obviously i don’t want to be in pain, or thinking about suicide every day. obviously i blame my depression for my inability, or unwillingness, to make something of my life. i blame it for not writing, or taking care of myself, or finding a career, or cleaning my room, or learning to do new things, or just trying harder, at anything. i have standards that i hold myself to; i think that a “real person” would wake up early with either the force of will or the innate desire to meditate and exercise, the positivity and focus to take care of outstanding chores without getting derailed for hours or days by fuckups and depressive crashes, a real person would have the organization and concentration to write for a few hours and draw for a few hours and play music for at least half an hour, a real person would stop finding passing but immediate satisfaction in food or shopping or masturbation or sleep, and would save up their energy for a sustained effort whose eventual resolution would bring truly great satisfaction. a person whose life is not defined by depression would be able to create goals that were not just the opposite of something bad, such a person would be able to Want things and, with the ability to picture them, pursue them. they could desire something other than pain relief. and while some of these things might sound like goals, i think the truth is that they are just judgments. i hate myself for not being able to do more than one or two things in a day, for having things like laundry consume almost an entire day, the rest of which is spent in nauseating despair over the fact that i fucked it up somehow. realistically, i don’t think most people, even “successful” people, divide every day into perfectly prioritized activities that consistently advance 5 or 10 of their life goals. i don’t honestly think that that level of perpetual motion and military execution is the normal result of normal mental health. i also don’t think most people are as lazy and paralyzed with fear, shame, disgust, and sadness as i am, though. while i thought about this, i realized that i don’t really know what i want. it’s hard to imagine. maybe this isn’t something that i HAVE to plan out, but i’ve become so afraid of continuing to waste my own time, and i do believe that there is value in trying to visualize what you want to happen, to at least have a sense of what might make you feel good, as opposed to just waiting for things to happen to you. a few years ago i began to realize that i couldn’t picture anything i really wanted. i barely even have sexual fantasies, even though i consider myself a fairly sexed up person. i can’t picture anything i would do if i were rich, that i don’t already do when i find a little money, other than stop working and probably avoid life more. i can vaguely picture living in a nicer apartment, but not in a lot of detail. it all just seems so ridiculous because the idea of having and do things i want i just unreal, just not in my life experience. i think maybe that would be step one, maybe if i started to feel better then i would gain the ability to imagine things that excite me, that i want. maybe that’s how i would start to feel driven. that’s what i would really like i think. i used to imagine that i was a driven person, but really i just had a lot of youthful energy and pent up frustrations. i definitely know what kind of person i would like to be, but i don’t know if that’s exactly the same as living a life that i feel good about. i don’t want to just keep judging myself meaninglessly by constantly imagining some form of perfection that doesn’t actually have anything to do with who i am. but that’s the whole point of this: it’s hard to imagine life without my problems. it’s hard to imagine not being a person who becomes extremely enraged and desperate when things go even slightly wrong. it has become my entire identity, it was from a very early age. the body, the endocrine system, determines so much of what your soul is like. i don’t necessarily see myself becoming a peaceful hippie or a vibrant cheerleader or some kind. but if i had it within myself to find a purpose, to feel that there is definitely a point to what i am doing, then i could enjoy being so firey and sardonic and everything all the time. the most important, powerful part of my depression is feeling that i cannot even imagine finding a purpose for myself. if i were able to come up with a reason i believed in to wake up and do things, even in a haze of rage or revulsion still, then i wouldn’t feel so much like my life is in serious danger from myself. i want to feel driven, driven to some end.

i have been totally astounded by my own apparent unwillingness to write this screenplay, which i truly think is such a great idea, and which i think has at least a snowball’s chance in hell of becoming real. so often i just feel nothing when i think of it, a suspicious fog shields it from my view, and i waste entire days that i designated for writing. (which is basically every day) without feeling the whole shape of it, it is so obvious to me that i’m afraid of it, that my mental illness doesn’t want me to finish it. i don’t have explicit thoughts about it, like that i don’t deserve to be a writer, or that the concept is stupid or the writing is bad, i am not plagued by fears that it is a waste of time or that people will hate it. actually, i don’t even have writer’s block, even if i don’t know every single thing i want to write, i know enough that i always have something i could be working on with it.  but at least some of those things are probably behind the xray-proof shielding that has popped up around it, preventing me from feeling the slightest thing toward it except on the rarest days. i know that there are some mysterious things that i need to work out to make it really compelling, less gestural, less like a storage unit for a couple of ideas and set pieces. i’m afraid one of these things is my mother. my mother is the whole motivation for this, the things that happened to my mother and the things she did to me. but i have been so unwilling to address the fate of the mother’s possession of the girl. there’s this vague idea that the mother’s spirit begins to take over half the girl’s body, the vague idea that the mother wants revenge on the cult leader, or even revenge on her daughter. but is there a resolution coming, a union of anyone’s forces? the mother was an insidious abuser because she found her daughter disgusting, according to the way she was raised by her own mother. this makes the mother seem rather like an evil spirit, one not really connected to the idea of internalized misogyny, who might not understand that it is important to destroy the cult which perpetuates a similar crime against its members. the relationship between the mother and daughter needs to become, ultimately, more absolute, more archetypically meaningful. i don’t think i want to write a corny, sentimental resolution involving love and forgiveness. maybe there’s something to the idea about psychic surgery, which i felt like i had really just pulled out of my ass. the girl is getting sick, she is losing control of some of herself, some of herself seems to rot--the cult uses psychic surgery to remove “psychic organs”, parasitic structures that manifest inside the bodies of women who deny their own fundamental purposes. the girl experiences something similar, but she sees through the cult’s army-building mind control bullshit. she knows that the organ is her mother. she’s pregnant with her own mother. so at first she’s fighting both the cult and her mother. then she uses the paranormal intrusion of her mother as a weapon against the cult, the way we all use our pain if we are successful in addressing it--we don’t pretend that it is this nothing, this impurity, like all cults want us to. maybe i’m having a breakthrough. maybe i will be able to write next week, to finish it by the end of te year like i wanted to. i can imagine that being exciting.

[lisamarieblair]

“And what is so rare as a day in June? Then, if ever, come perfect days.” 

― James Russell Lowell

Whereas the month of May flew by before I knew it, the month of June seemed to last and last. Perhaps it was because I held so tightly to it. Perhaps it was because there was more than usual to celebrate and more than usual to worry over.

With June’s end, we come into the prime of the year when nature’s time of renewal and growth complete and the year, and who we are in it, emerges alive and fully formed. Now, we have crested, peaked, arrived, and from here, though it won’t feel like it at first, we are on the downhill side. From now through the start of winter the days will begin to grow shorter again. From here the end of the year begins to grow near.

June is the month of LGBTQ Pride, and Father’s Day, and Juneteenth, all days full of emotion, and past, and pain for me. June is when summer officially starts and though most years we feel it long before the solstice this year spring claimed her time and we had many more days of rain and cool breezes than usual.

This June held a lot of new experiences for me. At work I got to teach a class I’d never taught before and I was invited to take classes to learn new things and relearn the old. I finalized the last big wedding things I needed to and felt the weight of all those who came before me, who fought for this privilege and dignity and never got to see it. This particular June will be the last full month in which I live unmarried and under my maiden name. July has come and with it the second half of 2019 and the rest of my life.

Working for a school district means that the end of June is much like the end of December. It is another kind of end to another kind of year. Beginning tomorrow we start to prepare for new routes, and new kids, or old kids who have grown into a new grade. It’s the time of the year when we reflect on the past one and make changes and promises to be more patient, more compassionate, more attentive and aware. We take stock of what didn’t work for us and we choose new hours, new schools, new locations.

The end of June is a good time to reflect, accept, and assess the failures of the year so far. It’s also a good time to redouble efforts where success has been found and progress has been made. For me, that is in daily writing. I have been good here, for the most part, I think, and I plan to concentrate all my energy into this place and the craft of writing the way that comes naturally to me. I have a plan and I am determined to focus not just my time but everything I do in all areas of my life toward writing, for me!

But before I do, here is what I am currently…

Writing an essay a week! I was inspired by writers Vanessa Mártir and Rosa Lyster I am embarking on a new writing challenge. My goal, for now, is to post an essay every single week from the first of July through the end of the year. I’m not committing to an essay a week for a year because I want to give myself an end I can see and give myself a place to quit should I find that I do not love the form as much as I’d imagined.  I will be honest now and say that while I have known for some time now that I wanted to do this challenge I in no way prepared for it ahead of time beyond looking for tips. I suppose it was fear that made me reluctant to begin, but now that July is just a day away, rather than giving up before the start, I am committed to starting where I am with what I have. 

Making honeymoon plans. I had promised myself I would wait until after the wedding to think about where we might go since we’ve decided not to go until the fall and frankly we don’t need any additional stress or decisions to make, but I can’t help it. I haven’t been on a proper long vacation in, well, ever, actually, and I am so ready to fly of some place far away and new with my very-soon-to-be wife. I want a so see the ocean, or maybe a volcano! I want to try new foods and hear people speak another language. I am ready to see for a moment how other people live and how the world looks from another perspective. I’m ready for an experience outside of myself!

Planning the wedding, still, but this will be the last month I will have to. The big day is very close now and though we’ve gotten almost all of the big things done, there are still about a million tiny details to work out too. I want to take a moment, before the calendar changes over to a new month to say that I am so proud of my fiance and I. We have worked so hard and gotten over so many fears and uncertainties in order to make this happen and I know I would never ever want to plan a wedding with anyone else. I’m convinced that the hardest part of a marriage is being almost married and I think we both will pull through it beautifully.

Reading Notes from Underground, The Double and Other Stories by Fyodor Dostoyevsky, still. I have fallen 4 books behind schedule in my reading challenge according to Goodreads but I haven’t given up and it is still very possible for me to catch up and even exceed my goals. The problem is that this book is not an easy read and having had very little time to give I just can get through it as fast as I have others. But! I have started reading before bed again and in July I will get back to carrying a book with me wherever I go. I’m also utilizing audiobooks but my comprehension is far below the written and I don’t feel as though I can engage with a book the same way.

Watching a lot more TV than I should be. Many of my favorite shows returned this June, and I found few new ones too including: Hulu’s Handmaid’s Tale, the dystopian drama based on Margaret Atwood’s famous novel, Pose, an FX channel drama about the 1980s Black and Latino gay ballroom culture scene in New York City, Black Mirror, the Netflix sci-fi anthology series, Euphoria, a disturbing HBO drama following a group of teen coping with issues of drugs, sex, and violence, Big Little Lies another HBO series, this one a dark comedy following a group of well off mothers whose lives are not as perfect as they appear, and When They See Us, a Netflix miniseries from Ava DuVernay based on the wrongful convictions of the “Central Park Five”. 

Learning nothing much at the moment. I’ve had to take a break from my MOOCs though I still do read a poem or watch a discussion on Modern & Contemporary American Poetry when I can. After the wedding, I’ll reset my deadlines for International Women’s Health and Human Rights and finally mark the course as completed and move on. These two courses have not been easy the former simply being quite long and dense and the other requiring proper written course work that terrifies me. Still, I miss having the time and look forward to diving back in come August.

Feeling stressed, anxious, and worried nearly all the time. It isn’t just the wedding planning, or even the big day itself either. Work has been chaotic and this month I had to work closely with others, which I’m not always good at. I had to teach a class in a whole new way than I am used to. I had to attend a large work conference I’ve never been to before, and for much of that time I was without a boss, or manager, or leader to help answer questions or give direction. In addition, my fiance is dealing with her own work stress and I fear it’s beginning to affect her health but I can’t do much to help except be there for her and it hurts. 

Anticipating the day after my wedding. Of course, I’m looking forward to the big day too, to seeing all my loved ones come together to share and celebrate our love, but if I am honest, I am much more excited for my first day as someone’s wife. It’s been so long—nearly 17 years!—that I have been and had “just a girlfriend”, but now I get to be something new and more. I know not much will change after the vows and it “I do’s” but something will, something I never thought I could be or have will finally be real. That is what I want more than anything at all and it’s so close now it’s all I can think about.

Reflecting on what it means to be a wife or a partner. I’ve been thinking a lot about what the difference between what we say love is, what it should look and feel like, and what it really is. I’ve been thinking that there are many kinds of love that we either don’t know the names of or whose names I never learned. I am thinking about this quote on passion and what it’s true nature is and wondering if there is a similar explanation for the way love feels in real life. I’m thinking about how to express the discordance between what we say love should be and what it is without sounding as if one must settle for less than the fantasy. I want to explore how a love that sometimes hurts, that disappoints, that is inconsistent, confusing, and difficult is love that is real and more rewarding than any fairytale.

Fearing rain! Right now this is the one thing that could derail and dismantle all the hard work we have put into our perfect wedding day. Our ceremony site is outdoors and there it no shelter or structure to shield us from the elements and it being summer in Colorado the weather is unpredictable and severe storms can move in quickly releasing flooding rains and large hail with little notice. We’ve agreed that if it is only going to rain a little, we will tough it out, but if the weather hints at turning terrible, we will have to scramble to move our ceremony indoors and give up on the dream, the money, and the time spent securing such beautiful gardens. I really, really, really hope it doesn’t rain!

Hating the camps and the conditions at the border. I hate ICE and border patrol. I hate that people must risk their lives crossing far from ports of entry out of fear. I hate that so many never make it. I hate the threats to round them up and to build a wall to keep them out. I hate the idea that the question of anyone’s citizenship status should be added to the census. I hate the calls for Mexico to hold those seeking asylum. I hate the lies, the generalizations, and the demonization I hear spewing from the president’s mouth. I hate how much we hate! I cannot understand it and I hate how powerless I feel to fix it. I hate all of it, but I hurt too and still, I know my hurt is nothing compared to those brave enough to seek a better life.

Loving every single Democratic candidate running for the Presidential nomination, each in their own way. Yes, I disagree with many, and yes I agree there are far too many running at all, but to see them all on stage this month during the first debate arguing not about who will help corporations, big pharma, or the oil and gas giants turn a profit, but how and who can give the everyday average American stay well, find meaningful work, and some shred of peace and dignity in the face of overwhelming capitalism. It was beautiful. I have my favorites, sure, but as a whole, I’m proud of the Democrats for recognizing, finally, who they represent. 

Needing some time with nature again! The weather wasn’t very summer like during the month of June and with work and wedding planning getting in the way even on days that were I wasn’t able to find time to travel outside of the city and into nature and I am beginning to feel the disconnect. I need to be reminded that there is a world not just outside of me but outside of humanity. We forget there are other ways to be on this planet and that we share this place with creatures who look, behave, and live very different from the way people do. It’s good for each of us to be reminded regularly that the human world is not the only one and that just outside of the city, and the politics, and the social expectations, there is a beautiful work functioning quite well with none of that.

Hoping that the summer will hang on a long while longer. I miss the way summers used to go on forever when I was a kid, and now that I’m an adult they seem to fly by. It helps that I work for a school district. I get easier days and the excitement of the kids rubs off on us adults and we get to keep a small sense of what they have, but by the start of July the schedule grows too regular again and the days speed up. I’ve been so busy I haven’t really gotten to enjoy my summer yet. I’m hoping that between mid-July and mid-August I can find a way to fit two months of fun into one and take hold of every minute of summer I have left. I’m hoping to have gotten at least enough to last me through a long winter that suddenly feels closer than it appears on the calendar.

So, yeah, all in all, June was a wonderful month. The weather was a bit dreary at first, but summer found its way to us, eventually. I may have been stressed, and I may have had no time at all for the things I enjoy or hoped to accomplish, but that’s okay. I got to do work that felt good and I got to work alongside the woman I love the most to plan a beautiful wedding. I can’t wait to write next months currently and tell you about all the ways my life has (or hasn’t) changed. 

But what about you? What fun things have you done this summer so far? What fun things do you still hope to do? What goals have you accomplished? Have you found time to get out and connect with nature? Are you heartbroken by the President’s actions to date and how are you coping with the crowded field on the left? 

Let me know in the comments.

“At midnight, in the month of June, I stand beneath the mystic moon.”

― Edgar Allan Poe, The Sleeper

The inspiration for these posts comes from Andrea at Create.Share.Love

Photo by Yannis Papanastasopoulos on Unsplash