I'm watching roasting ugly mansions 2 and realizing, like.
Phil has his filming room
and like he must go in there, shut the door, and sing silly little songs about how many cabinets there are
and Dan must hear him and go "oh just phil talking to the kids again"
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today i love the red metal crane in her long neck arching her body over the boston skyline, which means i am okay for a moment. when i am unwell, everything is a little ugly. i always tell myself look for the beauty but when it is bad, i will look at birds and sunsets and little ducklings and feel absolutely nothing.
when my brother got his puppy, i was in a deep depression. what kind of monster isn't affected by a puppy. i was gentle and kind to her - i just didn't have an emotional reaction. she's five now and i feel like i spend all of our interactions apologizing to her - i don't know why. i just didn't feel anything. how embarrassing. i feel like if i admit that, i'll seem cruel and jaded. it comes in waves. like, two months ago when i went out into the world - it was like that. life behind a pane of stormglass. a firework could go off over your head - nothing. like dead skin, no reaction. not to ice cream or rainbows or baby chickens. life foggy and uninteresting.
i love goslings again. i love their little webbed feet splayed over grass. i love good food and live music and long walks. i like puppies. i feel like some kind of my soul has been starved - i keep staring at everything with wide eyes, trying to burrow the sensation into my stomach. it's real. beauty is real. when it's bad again, remember this. i stop and smell the flowers, feeling cliche in the moment. i like the white-to-red ombre of my neighbor's roses. i like colorcoding and yoga and cold drinks. i try to pass my hands over every moment, feeling like i'm squeezing joy out of every instant. remember this. for the love of god, it's real - just remember this.
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sometimes I think of all the on-the-surface warm, well-meaning but deeply ineffectual advice and attention john gives harrow through harrow the ninth (make some soup and get some sleep! get a hobby! don't be so hard on yourself! self care harrow! as long as I need take no actual responsibility in this relationship whatsoever I would have loved to be your dad!) set up against the stark truth that with his other hand he has been staging her attempted horrific murder again and again and again like a living nightmare on the logic that it will 'put her down or fix her'. and then I find that I wish there is a hell. a special hell where twitch streamers turned necromantic death emperors go
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hehe ghost-turbo haunting felix au
turbo is connected to the last piece of his code in the whole arcade - a trophy he gifted to felix in mid 80s as a symbol of him genuinely caring about their relationships on par with being the best racer. felix also gave him one of his medals and both kept their gifts next to other rewards, but when roadblasters and turbotime were unplugged, the medal was gone with everything else
now, after burning in cola-lava turbo is basically dead, but scraps of his code still were intertwined with the trophy (after all, it was his first winner's cup, but felix never knew about it), giving turbo an opportunity to exist as a shadow incapable of interacting with anything and anyone besides felix, who kept the trophy even after the roadblasters incident
also I went crazy in tags, feel free to check them out
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that ivan loves till is the most obvious thing about them
but. does ivan know that…?
the ivan that regards his own feelings as shallow, the ivan that learned how emotions are expressed only from copying others… does he even know that the love he’s felt for so long is love?
probably not. and part of the reason is the one he loves himself
because the easiest example he has of love is till's feelings to mizi. till outright calls it love, and ivan watches him so much he has to be aware of this
and till’s love to mizi is totally unselfish, right. he doesn’t seem to actually want much from her—just that she's still there and still "mizi"
but ivan can't be satisfied with just watching
he… wants. ivan wants till’s attention, till’s affection—
surely this selfish wanting can’t be love
...no wonder he was never able to express his feelings straightforwardly when he belittles them so much
but he can’t stand not having anything either, so he does… whatever he does instead to get any scraps of attention he can, from someone he's convinced doesn't care about him at all
only showing affection when till can't see it, right until he knows he's going to die
but ivan's feelings for till are all he still has of himself... to think of them as shallow...
I've seen this translated as "I should've been kinder" to him (till) or to her (sua)
but really, the one he should've been kinder to was himself
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the more i rewatch twin peaks i am reminded more and more that albert rosenfield (and to a lesser extent bobby briggs, though he doesn’t quite articulate it as clearly as albert with the exception of him breaking down at laura’s funeral) is THE only character to recognize laura’s death for what it was—completely avoidable, unromantic, and caused by human evil that nobody recognized the signs of or did anything to stop
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