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the-blackholeus · 5 years ago

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You saved me, so I return the favor. (Tmnt2016 Shredder X Reader) Part 1

Please excuse any grammatical mistakes for English is not my native langue. The female version is below.

WARNING! THERE WILL BE A SCENE OF ATTEMPTED RAPE IN THIS.

Male:

��I told you to leave me alone.”, Y/N hissed at the man following him, eyes glistening with anger. “Come on, babe, I know you want me.”, he purred at him in that disgusting tune of his that made the young man sick. “I’ve lost count how many times I have to tell you that I don’t R/N (random name since I don’t want to insult anyone), out of two reasons. Your b/f/n boyfriend, and you disgust me to no end!”, he hissed at the smaller/taller man and ripped himself out of his grip as he was grabbed.

“Who cares about B/F/N. You’re are a better choice anyway. Now come here so I can devour you.” Okay, enough was enough. Y/N turned around and punched that disgusting idiot right into his face. He stumbled back, holding his bleeding nose, which was probably broken. “You bastard.”, he hissed and glared at the young man with pure rage. “You’re going to pay for that!”

Before he could even react, he was slammed against a wall, his head hitting the stone enough to break the skin, and wet lips were on his. The boyfriend of his best friend smelled of alcohol and many other things that were urging him to vomit right here on the spot.

He whimpered in pure disgust as he tried to free himself through struggling, but the drunk man was so much stronger than him, making it almost impossible to. “Let me go!”, he screamed and tried to kick R/N, in the shin, but he only grabbed his leg in a tight grip. “Nah, Nah, don’t do that.”, he teased and forced his leg around his waist, holding it there. “There are only two options now. Either you enjoy it, or it’ll hurt your choice.”

Y/N screamed in fear and rage, hoping someone would hear him, but his soon-to-be rapist only chuckled. “Scream as much as you want, there is no one that could hear you.” He leaned in, and the younger man closed his eyes, only waiting for the disgusting feeling, but it never came. Suddenly, R/N’s grip vanished, causing him to fall onto the dirty floor. With a groan of pain, he dared to open them again, only to find a rather small man standing between him and B/F/N soon-to-be ex-boyfriend.

He had short, black hair that was brushed back, and you could see from his back that he wore some kind of armor. His biceps were huge, and his hands, covered in black gloves, were clenched into fists. “And who are you?!”, he yelled at the strange man and wiped the blood off his face.

The small stranger stayed silent and slowly got into a fighting position, his body tense, his muscles flexing with every deep breath he took. “Leave!”, he growled in a deep, heavily accented voice that sent shivers down your spine. R/N huffed a laugh, wiping some fake tears from his face after he calmed somewhat down. “Never, you little fucker. This boy is mine, and I certainly won’t let you ruin that opportunity. What do you want to do anyway, boring me to death?!”

That seemed to cross the stranger's line. With a furious roar, Y/N didn’t know a human was capable of, two blades came out of the armor just above his hand on each side, and he charged. R/N cried out in surprise and fear as he jumped in the air and slashed his chest with the weapons, not enough to kill him, but enough to leave deep, ugly scars.

Blood gushed from the wound and dripped onto the floor as the almost-rapist fell screaming to the floor. “Leave!”, the dangerous stranger hissed again, louder this time, and pointed his weapons in the weeping man’s face. “Or face what I am really capable of!” With an impressing speed, he fled.

Y/N still sat on the floor, staring at the black-haired man in awe and slight fear, his heart-rate faster than ever before. Slowly, the strange fighter turned around. Dark, almost black, eyes stared into your e/c ones, cold, serious, perfectly matching the expression on his handsome face. It told him that he was from Asian. From where? He didn’t know. He had some deep scars on the right cheek, and a soft beard surrounding his mouth and covering his chin.

He got closer to the younger man sitting on the floor and reached out, retracting his weapons in the process. Y/N took it, surprised by how warm his hand was. “Are you alright?”, he asked, his deep accented voice swapping like an ice-back over a swollen ankle, soothing the fear that was still in his chest. “Y-Yes!”, he managed to stutter out. “T-Thank you.”

He was hoisted up to his feet again, supported by the strong arms of the stranger, who seemed to have no problem with his weight at all. Suddenly, one of his hands reached behind his head and brushed through his hair before examining it. “You are bleeding.”, his rumbled. He was right. His entire gloved palm was covered in blood and slowly running down to his fingers. “The wound needs tending.”

Y/n sighed in frustration and stared at the hand. “I’ll go to the doctor tomorrow, don’t worry.” “No.”, was the only answer he got before the grip on his arm tightened. His eyes seemed to become sterner. “Now.” With that, he pulled the younger man with him and they both walked down the streets, still hidden in the dark of the night. “Where do you live?” “A few blocks from here, the f/c house.”

Y/N hissed in pain as sudden dizziness came over him causing him almost to fall again if it wasn’t for those strong arms catching him just a second before he hit the cold stone. He heard the stranger mumble something under his breath in a langue that he recognized as Japanese before hoisting him up to his feet again, his right arm now wrapped around his shoulder.

The walk was silent, and the only thing the young man was the steady breaths of his savior, their steps and the cars rushing by. Not one of them said a word until they stood in front of Y/N’s house. “Give me the key.”, the black-haired man demanded, and the younger obeyed, feeling how all strength was literally running out of his body. Within seconds, they were inside, and he was led to the living room, forced to sit on the couch, the stranger seating himself across of him.

“W-What is your name?”, the Y/N asked. “I’d like to know who saved me from that fucking pervert.” “Oroku Saki.”, was his only answer, still looking into his eyes, only breaking it when he was blinking. “I’m Y/N.”, he smiled, rubbing his head carefully, earning a sharp “Stop.”, from the man sitting in front of him. “You will infect it.”

“Where is your first-aid-kid?” “In my (I don’t know where you are keeping it, so insert the place here). I always keep it there.” He made a low sound, stood up and returned with it shortly after. Oroku Saki walked around the young man and took his head in his hands. He felt warm fingers working on him, running through his hair. A wet cloth, which he apparently brought with him, touched the rim of the wound, causing him to wince.

Bandages were wrapped around the back of his head and forehead and a soft clap met his shoulder as his savior was finished. “Thank you.”, Y/N whispered and smiled when he came into view again. “Don’t mention it.”, Saki murmured and sat down. “What were you doing in that street anyway. That’s one of the most criminal environments that ever exists. I mean, you can defend yourself, I saw that, but still…” A look of pure surprise crossed his face, which slowly turned into one of amusement and a low chuckle sounded through the room like the younger man just told the best joke ever.

“Business.”, he answered and stretched leaned back. Y/N nodded, not wanting to dig deeper into his savior’s personal life. “Do you want to stay here for the night? It’s late and the busses take forever to arrive in this part of the city.” Saki seemed to consider his offer for a moment, closing his eyes, before nodding. “Yes, that would be kind of you.”

Slowly, the injured one of them stood up with supporting himself on the furniture. “I’ve got a guest room down the hallway, feel free to do stay as long as you want. This is the least I can do. I’m going to sleep, if you need anything, just wake me up. Sorry if this seems rude, but I think I really need rest now.” “Yes, you do.”, he said, and too, stood up. “Goodnight.”, Y/N called as he walked towards the bedroom, surprised when he got a response for those words. “Goodnight, Y/N”

---

Saki sighed as he laid down onto the soft sheets of the unfamiliar bed, relaxing fully against it, allowing himself to sink into his thoughts. This man, Y/N, really was a strange human, and what was even stranger, he didn’t know him. All world almost knew his face thanks to those turtles who spoiled his first plan. Either he didn’t recognize him, or he really did not know who he was.

But to be honest, he didn’t mind. It was quite pleasing to talk to him…or rather let him talk and listen to him. Finally, someone saw him as a human, and not as a monster. Unfortunately, he would have to leave early in the morning to make sure those idiots Bebop and Rocksteady won’t mess up their task, but he was certain that he would see Y/N again. If not by accident on the street, then he would definitely come back only to enjoy his company.

With a small smile, the Ninja closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep.

---

To be honest, Y/N wasn’t too surprised when he found Saki gone the next day, he already expected something like that. At first, he even believed yesterday’s events were just some crazy dream he had, but the bandage wrapped around his head and the note he found on the fridge which read “I hope we will see each other again.”, told him otherwise

When he entered the guest-room, a faint smell of soap met his senses, and he knew, his savior couldn’t have been gone for long. A small smile graced his face as he moved himself to the kitchen again to make breakfast, seating himself on the couch and turning the TV on afterward. Today, they were repeating his favorite movie, and Y/N really wanted to watch it, distracting himself from the previous events, when suddenly, the News popped up. The young man groaned in annoyance, he hated it when they did that, but he still continued to watch. Maybe something interesting happened.

“Two days ago, the infamous villain Shredder escaped from prison. The police are searching for him in every corner of the city, but there is no evidence where he is now. If you see that man on the street, please call the police immediately, this is one of the most, if not the most, dangerous criminal in the words.”

At the picture shown, he almost spits his food out. There, on the TV screen, was the face of the man that saved him from his best friend’s boyfriend. Oroku Saki, was the Shredder? The one and only Shredder that almost forced New York into slavery? Oh god. He leaned back and rubbed his forehead, the soft fabric of the bandage touching the tips of his fingers.

The probably most dangerous man alive saved him, not wanting anything in return, even took care of his injuries…Why? Somehow, Y/N couldn’t wait to see him again, he had so many questions, and he wanted answers.

Female:

„I told you to leave me alone.”, Y/N hissed at the man following her, eyes glistening with anger. “Come on, babe, I know you want me.”, he purred at her in that disgusting tune of his that made the young woman sick. “I’ve lost count how many times I have to tell you that I don’t R/N (random name since I don’t want to insult anyone), out of two reasons. Your b/f/n boyfriend, and you disgust me to no end!”, she hissed at the smaller/taller man and ripped herself out of his grip as she was grabbed.

“Who cares about B/F/N. You’re are a better choice anyway. Now come here so I can devour you.” Okay, enough was enough. Y/N turned around and punched that disgusting idiot right into his face. He stumbled back, holding his bleeding nose, which was probably broken. “You bastard.”, he hissed and glared at the young woman with pure rage. “You’re going to pay for that!”

Before she could even react, she was slammed against a wall, her head hitting the stone enough to break the skin, and wet lips were on her. The boyfriend of her best friend smelled of alcohol and many other things that were urging her to vomit right here on the spot.

She whimpered in pure disgust as she tried to free himself through struggling, but the drunk man was so much stronger than her, making it almost impossible to. “Let me go!”, she screamed and tried to kick R/N in the shin, but he only grabbed her leg in a tight grip. “Nah, Nah, don’t do that.”, he teased and forced it around his waist, holding it there. “There are only two options now. Either you enjoy it, or it’ll hurt your choice.”

Y/N screamed in fear and rage, hoping someone would hear her, but her soon-to-be rapist only chuckled. “Scream as much as you want, there is no one that could hear you.” He leaned in, and the younger woman closed her eyes, only waiting for the disgusting feeling, but it never came. Suddenly, R/N’s grip vanished, causing her to fall onto the dirty floor. With a groan of pain, she dared to open them again, only to find a rather small man standing between her and B/F/N soon-to-be ex-boyfriend.

He had short, black hair that was brushed back, and you could see from his back that he wore some kind of armor. His biceps were huge, and his hands were clenched into fists. “And who are you?!”, he yelled at the strange man and wiped the blood off his face.

The small stranger stayed silent and slowly got into a fighting position, his body tense, his muscles flexing with every deep breath he took. “Leave!”, he growled in a deep, heavily accented voice that sent shivers down her spine. R/N huffed a laugh, wiping some fake tears from his face after he calmed somewhat down. “Never, you little fucker. This girl is mine, and I certainly won’t let you ruin that opportunity. What do you want to do anyway, boring me to death?!”

Y/N still sat on the floor, staring at the black-haired man in awe and slight fear, her heart-rate faster than ever before. Slowly, the strange fighter turned around. Dark, almost black, eyes stared into her e/c ones, cold, serious, perfectly matching the expression on his handsome face. It told you that he was from Asian, from where? He didn’t know. He had some deep scars on the right cheek, and a soft beard surrounding his mouth and covering his chin.

He got closer to the younger woman sitting on the floor and reached out, retracting his weapons in the process. Y/N took it, surprised by how warm his hand was. “Are you alright?”, he asked, his deep accented voice swapping like an ice-back over a swollen ankle, soothing the fear that was still in her chest. “Y-Yes!”, she managed to stutter out. “T-Thank you.”

She was hoisted up to her feet again, supported by the strong arms of the stranger, who seemed to have no problem with her weight at all. Suddenly, one of his hands reached behind her head and brushed through her hair before examining it. “You are bleeding.”, his rumbled. She was right. His entire palm was covered in blood and slowly running down to his fingers. “The wound needs tending.”

Y/n sighed in frustration and stared at the hand. “I’ll go to the doctor tomorrow, don’t worry.” “No.”, was the only answer she got before the grip on her arm tightened. His eyes seemed to become sterner. “Now.” With that, he pulled the younger woman with him and they both walked down the streets, still hidden in the dark of the night. “Where do you live?” “A few blocks from here, the f/c house.”

Y/N hissed in pain as sudden dizziness came over her causing her almost to fall again if it wasn’t for those strong arms catching her just a second before she hit the cold stone. She heard the stranger mumble something under his breath in a langue that she recognized as Japanese before hoisting her up to her feet again, his right arm now wrapped around her shoulder.

The walk was silent, and the only thing the young woman was the steady breaths of her savior, their steps and the cars rushing by. Not one of them said a word until they stood in front of Y/N’s house. “Give me the key.”, the black-haired man demanded, and the younger obeyed, feeling how all strength was literally running out of her body. Within seconds, they were inside, and the younger woman was led to the living room, forced to sit on the couch, the stranger seating himself across of her.

“W-What is your name?”, she asked. “I’d like to know who saved me from that fucking pervert.” “Oroku Saki.”, was his only answer, still looking into her eyes, only breaking the contact when he was blinking. “I’m Y/N.”, she smiled, rubbing her head carefully, earning a sharp “Stop.”, from the man sitting in front of her. “You will infect it.”

“Where is your first-aid-kid?” “In my (I don’t know where you are keeping it, so insert the place here). I always keep it there.” He made a low sound, stood up and returned with it shortly after. Oroku Saki walked around the young woman and took her head in his hands. She felt warm fingers working on her, running through her hair. A wet cloth, which he apparently brought with him, touched the rim of the wound, causing her to wince.

Bandaged were wrapped around the back of her head and forehead and a soft clap met her shoulder. “Thank you.”, Y/N whispered and smiled when he came into view again. “Don’t mention it.”, Saki murmured and sat down. “What were you doing in that street anyway. That’s one of the most criminal environments that ever exists. I mean, you can defend yourself, I saw that, but still…” A look of pure amusement seemed to cross his face and a low chuckle sounded through the room like the younger woman just told the best joke ever.

“Business.”, he answered, stretched himself, and leaned back. Y/N nodded, not wanting to dig deeper into her savior’s personal life. “Do you want to stay here for the night? It’s late and the busses take forever to arrive in this part of the city.” Saki seemed to consider her offer for a moment, closing his eyes, before nodding. “Yes, that would be kind of you.”

Slowly, the injured one of them stood up with supporting herself on the furniture. “I’ve got a guest room down the hallway, feel free to do stay as long as you want. This is the least I can do. I’m going to sleep, if you need anything, just wake me up. Sorry if this seems rude, but I think I really need rest now.” “Yes, you do.”, he said, and too, stood up. “Goodnight.”, Y/N called as she walked towards the bedroom, surprised when she got a response for those words. “Goodnight, Y/N”

---

Saki sighed as he laid down onto the soft sheets of the unfamiliar bed, relaxing fully against it, allowing himself to sink into his thoughts. This woman, Y/N, really was a strange human, and what was even stranger, she didn’t know him. All world almost knew his face thanks to those turtles who spoiled his first plan. Either she didn’t recognize him, or she really did not know who he was.

But to be honest, he didn’t mind. It was quite pleasing to talk to the young her…or rather like to let her talk and listen to him. Finally, someone saw him as a human, and not as a monster. Unfortunately, he would have to leave early in the morning to make sure those idiots Bebop and Rocksteady won’t mess up their task, but he was certain that he would see Y/N again. If not by accident on the street, then he would definitely come back only to enjoy her company.

With a small smile, the Ninja closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep.

---

To be honest, Y/N wasn’t too surprised when she found Saki gone the next day, she already expected something like that. At first, she even believed yesterday’s events were just some crazy dream she had, but the bandage wrapped around her head and the note she found on the fridge which read “I hope we will see each other again.”, told her otherwise

When she entered the guest-room, a faint smell of soap met her senses, and she knew, her savior couldn’t have been gone for long. A small smile graced her face as she moved herself to the kitchen again to make breakfast, seating herself on the couch and turning the TV on afterward. Today, they were repeating her favorite movie, and Y/N really wanted to watch it, distracting herself from the previous events, when suddenly, the News popped up. The young woman groaned in annoyance, he hated it when they did that, but she still continued to watch. Maybe something interesting happened.

“Two days ago, the infamous villain Shredder escaped from prison. The police are searching for him in every angle of the city, but there is no evidence where he is now. If you see that man on the street, please call the police immediately, this is one of the most, if not the most, dangerous criminal in the words.”

As the picture of the man was shown, she almost spits her food out. There, on the TV screen, was the face of the man that saved her from her best friend’s boyfriend yesterday. Oroku Saki, was the Shredder? The one and only Shredder that almost forced New York into slavery? Oh god. She leaned back and rubbed her forehead, the soft fabric of the bandage touching the tips of her fingers.

The probably most dangerous man alive saved her, not wanting anything in return, even took care of her injuries…Why? Somehow, Y/N couldn’t wait to see him again, she had so many questions, and she wanted answers.

Part 2

#male reader #female reader #Brian Tee! Shredder #shredder x reader #tmnt out of the shadows #tmnt2

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hppyeo · 5 years ago

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— bias choice

You stood before your apartment door, shivering from the cold, wet rain you had just traveled through. You fumbled with your keys, trying to fit the correct one into the hole, but ended up dropping them. You sighed heavily, running your hands over your face and into your hair. You allowed yourself to sink to the floor, back pressed against your door, taking a few deep breaths. It wasn’t long before your vision blurred and your breathing shuttered.

The day had been rough—you woke up late for work, having to hastily get ready, and then came to find out your car was almost to E. You knew you wouldn’t make it to work on such a low amount, so you were forced to get gas, putting you even further behind. You rang your boss, only to have your phone cut off halfway through the call because it died. You cursed yourself for forgetting to plug it into the charger last night.

Once you arrived to work, you prayed the day would go by smoothly, but luck wasn’t on your side. You worked part time as a server while you finished your schooling, and it seemed as though everyone was going to make sure your day continued on the path downhill. Not only were you roughly thirty minutes late to your shift, you were also short a server, and being the resturant you worked at was already short staffed, you were even more so.

It was lunch time on a Saturday—you were slammed. You had far more tables than you could handle and tried apologizing and explaining to each one of them why the service may not be the best that day, but none seemed to show any consideration. You were swore at by several customers due to the food taking longer than usual to be brought out, and even the cooks were being rude to you; not saying when the food was up and yelling about you needing to do your job right for once. When you cashed out for the day, your tips were practically non existent, especially after having to tip out the bartender.

On your way home from work you got stuck in heavy traffic, which usually doesn’t happen, but it was a busy weekend in your town. The events taking place had slipped your mind, and you stayed stuck in traffic for almost 45 minutes. It had also been raining on and off all day, and it had just started to down pour when you were finally free from the traffic.

You had forgotten your umbrella at work and booked it from your car to your apartment building, only to stumbled over your own feet after trying to avoid a large puddle and drop your phone. It landed face down on the wet concrete, having a spiderweb of cracks displayed across the screen when you flipped it over.

Now you sat outside your apartment, desperately just wanting to take a hot bath and sleep the rest of your evening away, but you found yourself too worn out to move from your sitting position. Your body and mind gave up then and there, and you could feel more tears begging to spill free. You closed your eyes tight and tried to level out your breathing, but it was no use. All the stress from the day started pouring out of you and you couldn’t control it. You started to shake slightly as you weep quietly. Suddenly, you felt a hand on your shoulder.

“Y/N?” You opened your eyes, only to find your neighbor kneeled down beside you. “Are you okay?”

You quickly wiped your face with the backs of your hands, nodding. “Yeah!” your voice cracked, “I’m fine, um, I’m just...” you trailed off, not able to find an excuse. You locked eyes with your neighbor’s.

He picked your keys up from the floor, trying each key until he successfully unlocked it, letting it swing wide open before he stood before you, offering his hands. “C’mon, lets get you inside, ya?” You nodded softly, taking his hands in yours and used his strength to help you stand. You leaned on him as he supported you inside, leading you to the couch.

You two had always been “friends” of some sort. Not too close to really call one another friends excatly, but you certainly were more than acquaintances. You had invited him over one night for a small food party you had with your friends, and he had done the same with you one night when he and his friends had a movie marathon. You were always friendly as you passed by one another, smiling and saying hello and some small talk, but it never really went beyond that.

“What’s going on, Y/N?” He asked softly, sitting down beside you on your couch. You huddled yourself into the couch, wrapping a blanket around your body and rested your chin on your knees. You stayed silent for a moment, and you both allowed the faint sounds of the rain fill the room.

Sighing softly, you told him about your day, feeling some relief to get it off your chest. His brows were furrowed as he listened to you ramble, never interrupting your story. When you finally finished your eyes finally met his and held contact for a few moments.

“Why did you help me?” You questioned him, genuinely curious as to why he would take the time out of his day to comfort you.

“Why wouldn’t I?” His gaze held yours.

“I don’t know. We aren’t super close, so why would you bother?”

“Well, maybe that can change?” You raised your eyebrow at him. “We can start by getting food and watching a movie. I’ll order takeout, you pick a movie, okay?” You nodded at him, grabbing the remote from your sofa table and began scrolling through Netflix. You watched as he disappeared into your kitchen, his voice soft as he spoke into his phone.

You couldn’t help but feel a sense of warmth flow through your body.

Maybe this day could be turned around.

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sigmundite · 7 years ago

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NieR Automata is game of the millennium and anyone who disagrees can fight me.

#sigmundite plays a thing #low key weeping at ending e right now

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dammitadolfnomorecake · 6 years ago

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DOTW 29 - Full

It was now the fifth day of their holiday and they off exploring the coast line in rented sedan. Zeke's ashes were in Eren's lap where the omega had been playing with the box they were in for the whole trip. Heading along the coast, they were driving towards where the terrain turned from the smooth beaches and into the steep cliffs. It would have been so much easier if Eren had just scattered the ashes at the waters edge, but his boyfriend didn't want people swimming through Zeke's remains, and when he'd put it that way, it was kind of gross. The idea of bits of Zeke washing onto the beach, and sticking in the sand... that was just, a whole lot of messed up. Having checked the tour guides and attraction pamphlets for the area, he'd found a spot called "The Blowholes". Shaped by thousands of years of erosion, small holes had formed in the cliffs, meaning when a strong wave hit, the water would be forced up the hole in a shooting stream. Even if it wasn't the best place to scatter Zeke, it should still be pretty interesting. After that, he'd planned on taking Eren to see the natural hot water spring, the finally a drive through the plantations. Living in the city, the kid probably hadn't ever really given any thought to where the food they ate came from. Parking at The Blowholes, Levi eyed the masses of tourists. Steel fencing had been erected to keep them off the cliff, but that meant nothing to most people these days. They were happy to die if meant a chance at an amazing selfie. Climbing from the car, Zeke was left on the front passenger seat, while Eren jogged over to his side "What is this place?" "You'll see soon" No sooner had the words come out his mouth, a stream of water shot through one of the holes, leaving a rainbow in its wake "Oh my god! Did you see that?!" "Yep" "Levi! That is so cool! I need photos" He'd thought that meant photos of the water, not photos of them together while Eren tried to get the rainbow behind them. It felt like it took a hundred shots for Eren to get one he was happy with, though he did get plenty of kisses to the cheek during it all, so it wasn't all terrible. Since telling Eren about Isabel and Farlan, the omega hadn't shied away once. He'd caught him sitting on the balcony smoking a single cigarette in Isabel's memory, and had sat down to listen while he rattled on about some story from when they were young. Even if it'd been 15 years, it felt like only yesterday that they met. The memories flowing back so easily. Almost too easily. By the end of it all, he was sure he'd never talked that much in his life. Walking down along the fence line, the stopped so Eren could take photos of the tourist information board, with all the do's and don't's. That everyone else was happily ignoring. Finding out there was small war memorial just a little further along the road, Eren didn't even have a chance to ask if they could go, before he was saying yes. This was why holidays were bad. He couldn't say no to Eren at the best of times. A 20 minute drive down a rough gravel road wasn't his idea of fun, not with all the dust kicked up by the traffic. Then Eren saw two horses wandering through the low scrub on the road side, so they'd had to stop so he could take photos, clearly disappointed when the pair didn't come closer. At the war memorial, Eren took another hundred odd photos. It was a steep climb from the small dirt carpark, but was nice in its own way. Like most war memorials, it had a huge anchor, as well as neat marble wall panels naming the soldiers who'd died in the last great conflict with Marley. Eren seemed to be especially proud when he found and L. Ackerman, and an E. Yeager on the lists. Declaring that in another life they'd been soldiers and it had been a tragic love story of two star-crossed lovers. He was 90 percent sure Eren didn't know what it meant, but didn't want to dampen his enthusiasm. Urged to stand next to his "name", it was slightly spooky when a random Gull swooped down to land atop the panel. It's red rimmed eyes staring right into his before it cawed and flew away. He'd just been slipping back into thinking about Isabel. After taking a photo of Eren next to "his name", they headed back down to the car. Eren pausing to pick a bright pink flower off one of the numerous sprawling succulent plants surrounding the walkway. The natural springs was a half an hour drive back along the main road, and then another 5 minutes down a dirt one. The sight over grown with weeds and reeds, while the smell of Sulfur had him wrinkling his nose. Taking photos of everything, Eren nearly lost his phone as he tried to get a good photo of the water flowing from the rust pipe system installed to once water stock. Of course they couldn't drink hot water, so it instead fed off into a concrete tank to cool. By running it through a series of concrete channels, the surface area of the water was increased, allowing for a wider surface to cool at once. Or that's what the sign said in much more technical terms. Even if it might have seemed boring to some, Eren seem really excited to be learning about new things. He had no idea that erosion could form things like The Blowholes, that Paradis had even been at war with Marley, or that natural springs actually existed and his books weren't lying. With the next stop being the plantations, they stopped off at a banana plantation, where Eren ditched him for the huge aviaries of all kinds of birds. Unlike almost all the other plantations in the area, this one was open for public visits and tours... He didn't love yours, and he loved them even less by the end of it. He had fucking filthy rotten bits of banana stuck to the bottom of his shoes. His toes curling as his feet tried to escape the filth. With it being nearly lunch time, they grabbed lunch there. Eren being the little shit that he was, and eating a banana so provocatively, he'd popped a boner of it. The things Eren could do with a banana and his plump pink lips was better than soft core porn, and all he'd done was eat the damn thing. They'd also picked up a few small souvenirs there. A key chain bottle opener for both Moblit and Hanji, while Erwin got banana, the whole where the bananas banana would be if he had one. For Eren they'd picked out a dorky looking snow globe. The banana inside dressed as snow man which made absolutely no sense... yet Eren thought it was cute, and that was enough for him to be handing over his debit card. * Eren was enjoying their drive. There was so much to see outside of the concrete of Shinganshima. Everything was so green and bright. And completely fascinating. Time was running out to find a place to lay Zeke at rest, but after Levi had been so open with him, his attention had mostly been on making sure Levi was doing ok with everything. It felt good and scary at the same time. He felt even closer to Levi. Like he understood why he did what he did, and it was fucking scary. He didn't want to see Levi that scared or upset all over again. He didn't want his boyfriend to suffer alone anymore. Turning off the main road, Eren had no clue what was happening. Wild scrub along both sides of the road seemed to thicken until a small carpark appeared on the right side. Pulling into the carpark, Eren looked to his right. There was a small wooden bridge leading over what seemed to be a river. Tall weeping trees draped over the sides of the river, giving it the impression that no body had been in here in years "Want to go take a look? The bridge has to lead somewhere" "You don't mind?" "How often do we see nature like this?" Levi hated nature. The man definitely out of his element on the beach, though he tolerated it enough for them to wade around in the water. Unlike him, Levi could swim and Eren could watch him swimming around all day. It was the first time he'd seen Levi in any kind of shorts other than the boxers he wore over his boxer briefs in the summer. He loved watching the way Levi's muscles and rippled. A blush settling on his face as he grew aroused from the sight of his sexy alpha dripping wet. The only reason Levi would suggest the walk is because he knew Eren wanted to go. Leaving Zeke's ashes on the passenger seat, Eren scrambled out the car. The place was silent, even with the few ducks floating on the river. Jogging over to the bridge, he leant against the aged rails, once painted red but now faded to back to wood in places. Coming up behind him, Levi wrapped his arms around him, kissing his shoulder "What do think?" "It's pretty. Where do you think the river goes?" "Out to the ocean. I think it's connected to the same river that runs through Shinganshima" "It's so quiet... it feels like we're the only people in the world" "I think I could live with that" Turning his head, Eren kissed Levi's forehead awkwardly "I think you'd get bored pretty quickly" "I don't... this place is kind of nice" "Mmm. Do you want to follow the path?" "Did you get enough photos of the ducks?" "I haven't taken any yet" Levi felt his front pocket, pulling his phone out for him "I know you'll regret it if you don't" How did he manage to scored himself the best alpha in the world? Snapping a couple of photos of the ducks, then squealing when he realised there ducklings, Levi patiently waited for him "Can we take a few together?" "If you want to?" "I do... I don't ever want to forget this. Being here with you" "Who would have thought you'd be so sappy?" "I'm an omega, it comes with the dynamic" "We both know you're not your dynamic" Eren snorted. He was very much a slave to his dynamic, no matter what he did. Even now, he was slicking at the feeling of being in his boyfriends arms "Maybe..." Turning in Levi's arms, he stole a kiss. Levi, squeezing his arse in response to the stolen kiss. Mewing, he broke the kiss "That's not fair" "What's the point of having a boyfriend with such a fine arse, if I can't grope you" "If you keep groping me, I can't be blamed for my actions" "What are you going to do? Kiss me?" "Exactly" "I'm so scared" "You better be..." Kissing Levi again, his boyfriend ground up against him. The pair of them very much in their own world until the ducks behind them quacked and splashed loud enough for Eren to break the kiss with a sigh. He wanted to be with Levi physically, but needed just a little longer. It was moments like this that sucked the most. Maybe if they'd been a normal couple, Levi would have bent him over and fucked him right there... fuck... his cheeks reddened as he caught a whiff of his own aroused scent. He wished Levi was like every other alpha he'd met, the ones who couldn't read or even smell his scent. But he also wouldn't change a single think about the man "You look like you shat yourself, brat" "What the fuck am I supposed to say to that?" "No?" Rolling his eyes, he forced Levi to turn around, and leaned down to place his chin on Levi's shoulder "Shut up and smile for me" Levi scowled at the camera, Eren unable to hide his smile "You're not smiling" "Because you're a shit" "Mmm... probably. Now smile" Instead of smiling, Levi kissed his cheek. With his thumb over the camera button, he ended up with like 50 copies of the photo. Not that he minded "I like this one" "Eren, I've been meaning to ask. I know you were scared of leaving a paper trail, when you were with Zeke. But can I make a photo of us my online profile photo?" "You... want to use a photo with me in it?" "With your permission... you're my boyfriend. I want to show the world" Eren swallowed down the scream of happiness. Levi's ear was right near his mouth "I... are you sure? I'm not the special..." "You're my boyfriend. I want the world to know you're mine" Oh fuck... he squealed right into Levi's ear. But after a confession like that, he couldn't stop himself "Yes!" "Oi. Fuck. That was my ear" "Sorry. I tried not to... but..." "You got excited?" "Yeah..." "It's alright. And I won't change a thing without your permission" "Levi, do you think I could make an account?" "You want to make an account? On what?" "I don't know... I just. Want to know more about you" "All you have to do is ask. I'm honestly not on social media all that much. But Hanji and Erwin are. And Moblit" "If I make it an account, does everyone see it?" "Why don't be take a look when we get back to the room?" "Mmm. Ok. Exploring first?" "Alright, lets go exploring" The gravel path leading from the bridge lead up to a look out. The river cutting through the dense scrub before. It was... it took his breath away. He had no idea what the plants surrounding him where, but they were beautiful... wiping at his face, he knew this was the place. This tiny place where no one came, and the environment hadn't been ruined by concrete and roads "Everything ok?" "Here... I want to scatter his ashes here" Levi took half a step back, but then his alpha grabbed his hand, forcing him to face him as his hand came up to cup his cheek "Are you sure?" "It's beautiful... and so peaceful. I hope wherever he is, he's at peace. That's the only thing I want... him to rest peacefully. He didn't have a happy life, and his... he deserves peace" "And you're sure?" "Yeah... Levi, do you think the river leads out to the ocean?" "It does" "I think it'd be nice if he could see all this, before seeing the ocean... if I died, I think I'd like to rest in a place like this" Levi's face softened, he sighed softly "Alright. But I don't want to think of you dying" "I'm not going anywhere... I couldn't leave you to find a better omega" "I couldn't find a better one... maybe one who's less of a brat" "It's not my fault I'm a brat" "No. I'm just a dirty old man" "A sexy old man" Levi huffed at him "I'm sorry. You're the only dirty old man I could ever want" "That's better" "I... I really care about you Levi. I've never met anyone like you before. You're so gentle to me, and so kind. I don't want another alpha. Any other alpha... you're all that I could ever want" "Eren..." "I know I'm young. And you're probably going to say that I might change my mind, but I won't. You make me so happy" "I was going to say, I have no intention of sharing you" "That's even better" Levi rose on his tiptoes to kiss his forehead "Lets go get Zeke" Levi asked him if he wanted to say some words before scattering Zeke's ashes. He didn't know how to sum up the time he'd spent with Zeke. He didn't know how to thank Zeke for taking him in. For helping him find his voice again, and for saving him from the hell his life had been. He didn't know how to thank Zeke for holding him when he screamed or cried, or for all the times his brother cleaned him up. How to thank him for all the times he changed his bed sheets for him after losing control of his bodily functions, not used to having access to the toilet anymore. He didn't know how to thank him for teaching him how to dance. For giving him a way to express what he was feeling in a way that wasn't screaming or breaking things. When he'd first got out of hospital, the rehabilitation therapist had suggested yoga and gentle stretches to help him build his strength back up. Zeke had told him that. But looking at everything, it seemed a boring way to go. His brother said he'd never smiled when he'd first taken him in, so Zeke had looked into forms of rehab. Settling in dancing. Exotic dancing might not have been what Zeke was thinking, but his brother didn't stop him. He'd taught him what he needed to get by. How to talk. How to walk. How to do... everything. How was he supposed to thank Zeke for everything he did? And how was he supposed to apologise for being the one to cause his death? For all the times he disappointed him. For all the times he was bad omega who deserved to be hit. He missed him. He missed him so much... climbing down the side of the clay river bank, Eren sniffled as he opened the box. Zeke's ashes sealed in the bag inside. He wasn't sure he could do this. He didn't want to let him go. He didn't want to lose him, forever. But he wanted him to rest in peace... and leaving him in the bottom of the wardrobe wasn't ok. Taking the weight of the box in his hands, Eren nodded his thanks. His hands shaking like crazy as he lifted the bag out. It wasn't as heavy as he thought it would be. Not nearly heavy enough to be them remains of a whole human person. His brother hadn't exactly been small. How did a living, breathing person turn into this? They'd said his body was too decomposed or something for him to see him. If Levi had been listening, he could have explained it to him. But if Levi had listened, he would have known he wasn't telling them everything. The questions he'd ask would be dangerous... "Eren, if you're not up to this..." "I do... this is the right place. I know it is" "Ok..." Opening the bag, Eren took a handful of ashes. His anger flaring over his brother being taken from him. He'd been the last of his family and now he was this. The ashes felt weightless in his hand. Holding the handful of ash above the water, he let out a sob as he forced his fingers to uncurl. He tried to say "Thank you" to Zeke. That he loved him. That he missed him. That he needed him and that he was sorry. Nothing came out. Everything on his lips falling silently between the sobs. This was it. Zeke would be gone forever. Finally free of his duties of looking after him... Small handful after small handful was sprinkled on the water, until the bag was empty. Running his hand through the water, Zeke's ashes were already sinking. His knees going weak as he forced himself not to fish his brother back out the river. Catching him, Levi lifted him off his feet. The box ending up in his lap as his boyfriend nuzzled into him "You did so good. I'm sure Zeke knows everything you wanted to say. And I'm sure he's happy to be laid to rest here" He wanted to go home. Or at least back to the hotel room. He hated the place for taking his brother him from him, and he loved it for being the perfect place for him to rest. It Zeke had been alive, he was sure he'd like it. It was so pretty that you couldn't help but like it. So upset that he felt sick, Levi noticed. He carried him out the river, slipping on the bank and never complaining. With his head on Levi's shoulder, his eyes were glued on the spot where Zeke was now. Finding the tiniest bit of his voice, he whispered "Thank you for loving me" If Levi heard, he didn't say. His boyfriend carrying him over to the passenger side. Being a low sitting sedan, it wasn't quite as easy to lower him in. Eren climbing out Levi's hold without saying anything. He couldn't stop crying, and his taxed mind couldn't thank his boyfriend. He just didn't have the mental energy to do anything but be miserable. Levi took all over in his stride. His boyfriend took his shoes and socks off for him, dd his seatbelt, covered him with his jacket from the back seat and kissed him softly "I'm going to drive us home now. Or do you want to stay a little longer?" If they stayed, he was sure he'd go crazy. That he'd throw himself in the water and beg to die. To be with him. He was supposed to die with him... he was never supposed to be with Levi. With a pitiful look on his face, he looked to Levi "Ok. Give me a moment" It really did seem to take a forever for Levi to climb into the sedan after closing the door for him. Throwing his phone up onto the dash, Levi then placed his hand on his leg "I looked at the sign. This place is called Ymir's Pool. So you know" He hadn't even thought about that. He'd just dumped Zeke... in a place he didn't know the name of... What kind of person did that make him? The river wasn't that deep, the sun reaching to the bottoms of it. Once the sun set, it'd be so cold. Hanji had explained that bodies were kept cold in the morgue. His brother locked away in a cold box for months, before being scattered in a river that would turn just as cold. Closing his eyes, his thoughts went to Zeke laying at the bottom of the river. Trapped under all that water with no hope for escape. At some point he'd fallen asleep on the way back to the hotel. The thought of Zeke being cold had taken such a hold on his fragile mind that he'd dreamed a nightmare of his brother trapped under the water drowning. His mouth open, screaming as his hands reached for him. Bubbles were all he could see. Bubbles from Zeke's soundless screams. When Levi woke him, his heart was racing so fast that he feel the thudding in his head. His boyfriend looked at him so sadly. He didn't have any words to comfort Levi. To make things right. It wasn't until Levi went to help him from the car that he found he'd scratched his arms again. The scabbing wounds bleeding beneath his sleeves. He couldn't deal with this. He'd never felt like he was right now. He'd known it was the perfect place to lay Zeke to rest when he'd seen the view. His brother would make the journey to the ocean without him... and Eren would return home. Leaving him behind. If anyone was being left, he should have been it. Everyone left him, and every time his world shattered into thousands of pieces. The pain was raw, like the open wounds on his arms. It was the kind of pain he'd take a million times, to prevent anyone feeling it even just once. * Levi knew saying goodbye had broken Eren's heart. The omega's scent was painful, to both him and his alpha. It seemed to coat his tongue and leave a bad taste in his mouth. He'd hoped laying Zeke to rest would relieved the burden Eren carried on his shoulders. His boyfriend had chosen the place to say goodbye, but now he wondered if it was too soon. Eren might be long and lanky, not instinctively rousing the desire to protect from most alphas, yet he knew that was was far from the truth. His boyfriend was small, scared and fragile. Some days he oozed a confidence that blew him off his feet, but that was an act. It was the kind of confidence Eren wished for himself. Levi tried to see beyond, and most times he did, but this Eren in front of him... this was the Eren he'd seen when they'd first met. The broke boy who jumped and flinched at shadows. Saying goodbye to Zeke had brought him back to the surface. With clothes stained in filthy river stink, Levi took Eren through to the bathroom. Sitting him down in the bath, Eren barely seemed to notice as he stripped him down to his underwear. Checking to make sure the kid wasn't using a pad, he then turned the taps on and poured in way too much vanilla bodywash. Eren was in shock, his body cool and clammy to the touch. He needed to get him warmed back up. Moving to move away from his boyfriend, Eren reached out and took his hand. The touch was weak, Eren's hand would have slid from his if he hadn't curled his fingers slightly "Do you want me to stay?" There was a small tug on his hand "If I'm staying, I need to get out these filthy clothes" The river water had been fucking disgusting. His skin tried to shrink away from his equally revolting clothes. He never, ever, would have set foot in it if it wasn't for Eren. Both his and the kids sneakers were ruined by swamp mud from the bottom of the river. He'd binned both pairs in the rubbish bin of the hotel's car park, while Eren's was in his hold. With his legs loosely wrapped around his waist and his face against his shoulder, he was sure Eren hadn't even noticed them gone. They both had another pair of sneakers packed, and if Eren really liked them, he would buy him another pair. Letting Eren make the next move, his hand jerked back from Levi's with a soft whine "I'm just going to strip off. I'll keep my underwear on" He really wanted to take a fucking shower, for at least an hour and a half. But the water was already pouring into the bathtub, so redirecting it to either of the shower heads would result in poor pressure. Taking a couple of steps out of Eren's reach, he peeled his jeans off, wincing at the stink that came wafting back up from the source being disturbed. Next came his shirt. Eren letting out a kind of grunt as the garment hit the floor "Do you want me to leave?" Closing his eyes, Eren slid forward in the tub. His knees coming up to his chest as he wrapped his arms around them. With the bath being so big, there was barely three inches in the bottom of it "What do you need from me? What can I do to help?" Eren moved the thumb and pointer fingers of his right hand, turning them out slightly. Staring at it, it was the "ay" incident all over again. He thought it meant that Eren wanted him to stay, but without words, he didn't know "You want me to stay" His boyfriend didn't respond. What was he supposed to do now? If Eren wanted him to stay, he would. He looked scared and vulnerable... getting a new idea, he took a deep breath before stepping closer to the tub again. Stepping over the side, he sank down behind Eren and pulled him up between his legs. Instead of pulling away, or tensing, Eren slumped back against him. So this was what the omega wanted? His boyfriend to hold him. He could do this. There was nothing sexy about being in a bath in your underwear. Nor was there anything sexy about the smells of distressed omega, confused and agitated alpha, and river water. Using his toes to pull the plug out, he drained the bath of the river water mix, before sliding back into place. Being such a large bath, it was going to take a while before it filled. In his arms, Eren was still freezing cold with shock. Goosebumps covered his boyfriend skin. Rubbing Eren's arms, Eren whined softly against him. The whine slightly different as it was the sound of an omega in distress, calling for their alpha to soothe them. He was Eren's alpha, but they weren't bonded. He couldn't soothe Eren's fears completely like a bonded alpha could, and there was no way he was going to bond with Eren so soon into their relationship. Even if the omega said he was all he could want, and even if the urge to mark and claim him was strong, Eren needed time. The vibrant omega was still so young. He didn't want to limit his options or his future. Eren might be it for him. He was completely invested in him, and wanted a future with him, but one day, Eren might not feel the same way. And though he wanted to keep Eren by his side forever, he wouldn't force him to stay or make him feel obligated to with his mark, if he found someone he loved more than him. It took nearly half an hour to fill the bathtub just over half way. Eren was still whining softly for comfort, while Levi was nuzzling into his cheek in an attempt to provide it. He knew omegas purred when needing to calm themselves, but Eren wasn't purring like he'd seen him do so many times before. It made him wonder if Eren had finally given up his sad purr, now only choosing to purr when purely content and happy. Each omegas purr was slightly different, some not purring at all. Yet he was sure if he could get Eren purring, it would help calm his racing heart. It'd been a few hours since scattering Zeke, including the drive back, if Eren didn't calm down soon, he risked going into heat, and that would only make his boyfriend feel even worse. Plus, taking Eren on a plane while in heat was just not possible. Even if it was one of his semi-heats, the smell alone was enough to drive any alpha wild. Or at least him, as he seemed to be the only alpha in the world that picked it up. For his friends, they had to be up close to tell, basically touching his boyfriend. For him. Nope. He liked to think it was because Eren was "made" for him, despite the reality that it was a side effect from the trauma he'd suffered as a kid. Sitting Eren up in front of him, his boyfriend whined again. Starting with Eren's shoulders, he began to massage while keeping his lips near Eren's nape. It was a dirty trick. The napes of most people were incredibly sensitive, to touch there was only allowed by the person themselves or their mate. With gently kisses to the area, Eren mewed for him, his own nature turning against him as it calmed and tried to get more attention for the spot. Continuing to kiss, he alternated with mouthing until Eren was simply mewing and panting. The sadness in his scent had turned to arousal, which was kind of flirting with danger, but much more easy for him to bring Eren out of. Wrapping an arm around Eren's waist, he pulled him back up against him, resting his chin on his shoulder as his boyfriend slowly calmed his breathing back down to normal, the finally evened out as he fell asleep against him. With both himself and Eren washed down completely, something that he hoped his boyfriend wouldn't realise involved stripping him of his underwear, he carried Eren out to their bed where he finished drying him off, before dressing him in his underwear and the sweats he used for pyjamas. Next came dressing Eren's arms back up. Some of the scratches were definitely going to scar. Eren might use vitamin E cream for his scars, but it wasn't an overnight fix. It'd take weeks, and months for them to fade from such a deep and angry pink. Once that was done there was only one thing left to do, and that was to climb into bed with omega. Manhandle him so they were laying tangled up together, Eren's still damp hair was tickling his chest. Isabel's and Farlan's funerals had hit him hard. The same emotions he'd struggled through were now hitting his boyfriend much harder than they'd hit him. At least he got to see both of his friends bodies before their burial, while all Eren got was a pile of ashes. It had to fucking hurt, which is probably why Eren couldn't say what he'd wanted to. He'd have to until tomorrow to ask Eren if he wanted to go back to the spot and say a proper goodbye. He probably should have offered some kind of words as Eren scattered the ashes, but he had no love in his heart for Zeke. He'd used and manipulated Eren's good nature and natural desire to help and protect what he held dear, and fucked the omega right over. He'd turned him against the people who loved him, while Eren was blinded to it all by the love for his brother. Hanji called him a few hours later. Outside the balcony doors, the world was bathed in oranges and red from the sunset. He would have liked to have been able to take the call outside, but Eren had a firm hold on him. Making sure he didn't disturb his boyfriend, he swiped his thumb across the screen, before laying it down on his ear "Levi! Can you hear me?!" Fuck. Why did she have to yell?! "Keep your voice down, Eren's sleeping" "Oooooh, late night? Did you two finally do it again?! I hope you were careful and used protection" "No..." "Levi! Seriously!" "Shut up. We didn't have a light night. Eren scattered Zeke's ashes today, then had a bit of a meltdown" "My poor honey. Where did you scatter him? At the beach?" "No, we found a spot along the river that Eren liked. It hit him super hard" "Of course it did. He had to say goodbye today. Is he in heat? I can probably arrange time off to drive down if he is?" "No. Not the moment. I couldn't pull him out of like usual, so it's probably for the best he's sleeping right now" "Make sure you give him lots of love for me" "Not happening. Why are you disturbing my holiday?" "Oh! Oh... that's right. I had to take Titan over to Erwin's. He's fine, but when I got there today, there was a note on the door about the noise. I think the poor boy misses his humans" "So he's ok?" "Yeah. Just a bit lonely. He even came up to me for pats" "Desperate times call for desperate measures" "Rude! Hey, I know Eren's probably feeling really down, but you should take him out tonight" "What do you mean take him out? He isn't going to want to be in a crowd" "I mean just take him out dancing or something..." "Hanji, he's really not up for dancing" "He loves dancing. It'll help take his mind off everything. Or take him out for a nice dinner. If he stays inside, he's only going to get more depressed" "I think I know how to make my boyfriend feel better" "I'm not saying you don't, but..." "Hanji, I've got it handled. I'm going before he wakes up" "Fiiiine. I only called to see how my honey was, and to let you know about Titan" Ending the call, Levi looked down at Eren's hair. Maybe Hanji was right.... Maybe instead of cuddling, Eren needed a distraction.

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autumn-oceanopromises · 2 years ago

Text

14/7/22 - “Open mic night”

It is the 16th of May, 2016. It’s cold, and my shoes are wet from the puddles I’m walking through. I’m striding through my city’s red-light district, avoiding the street-walkers and drunk college students spilling out of the bars. I’m headed toward the Thirsty Dog. I’ve been going there every Monday for two months, for their open mic night. Of all the musicians regularly playing at it, and the bar patrons happily listening along, I’m the only musician of color and the youngest one in the bar by about three decades. The music is chronically jazz, folk, and blues, but I know the shape of these songs with my eyes closed. I harmonize, I echo, I lead, in turn.

But the connections I’ve formed by what’s more of a giant jam session or karaoke, rather than an ‘open mic night’ are more shallow than deep, and when the nights end, I walk home alone, avoiding the street-walkers and drunk uni students spilling out of the clubs, to a tiny room with no windows, and a spot of mold in the corner of the midnight blue carpet.

In 2015, I fell in with a former drug-lord, who with great precision made himself the center of my life. His opinions are my opinions, his perspectives my perspectives. Right now, I still trust him utterly. He doesn’t see the point in folk, jazz, or blues - he doesn’t see the point in singing old songs, in making connections with people who can give him nothing. He’s right - I don’t see the point in making connections with people who can give me nothing. But music gives me something, so I’m doing that.

I’ve just come off being homeless for a month, too, because of him, but for some reason I still trust him utterly. Maybe that reason is the charisma of a cult leader, like my father tells me, in between his screaming at me to listen and threats to disown me, before I hang up. Tonight, the man I trust completely is hustling for a million-dollar marketing contract. I’m walking through one of his favorite parts of town, trying to figure out how much I can eat tonight, to make rent. When I sing, I don’t feel the need to eat. Music is enough.

The musicians nod at me when I enter. I nod back. I don’t remember their names, though I recognize their faces, their drink choices, their guitars. Tonight’s a slow night. The mood is low, and our songs weep with nostalgia, with longing, with pain.

Our song choices are deeply personal, and often it’s one singer, one guitar. We listen to each other, and we hold space for each other. The bar patrons talk over us, not really recognizing the songs enough to sing along. I do several that night, clinging to that faint connection to those around me. But, I’ve picked songs that no one else seems to know, and I have to climb up onto a separate, elevated stage, and play the piano, or sing unaccompanied. The piano is far away, detached from everyone else. I feel like I’m shouting loudly to be heard, but there’s no one listening.

When the bartender rings the closing bell and we take one final turn, I do Leonard Cohen’s Hallelujah.

Five guitarists pick up the chords at once, first in clashing key signatures, and then, meshing together. Others start to sing along, to echo, to harmonize, to lead. Someone hops up onto the stage, to the piano, and starts to play. The bar patrons start to sing along. It’s Hallelujah. Everyone knows it, knows how to sing it, wants to sing along, wants to be a part of it.

I wrote my own verse to Hallelujah when I was thirteen. It’s a verse that I have sung, with the raw gore of an open wound, ever since my fiancee left her accusations about the man I trust utterly ringing in my ears. The day after that screaming match, she placed the engagement ring I bought her on our bedside table, and left everything I’d made for her in a careless pile next to our bed.

I slide the verse in. The room falls silent, confused. It’s not the usual way the song goes. But when the chorus starts again, the room shakes with fifty voices singing Hallelujah. People pray, people stand with tears in their eyes, hands raised, upwards and outwards. The sadness shatters, and the songs pass onwards from me to finish that last turn around the circle. The bar patrons are happily singing along now. We are all singing.

I thrum, all over, with a buzz of true connection. I feel myself smiling uncontrollably, smiling back at people who smile at me. When the bartender finally closes up shop and shoos us all outside, the night outside is warm, the last gratefulness of autumn, and conversations, bright and happy, spill out onto the street. I wave away offers to drive me home. I want this glow inside me to last as long as I can manage.

I walk home, still feeling warm and happy and connected, to a room wide enough to stretch out my hands. I have no windows, but it’s warm at night. I have have a beautiful blue carpet, that looks like the color of the night sky. I wish I could be this connected and hopeful and happy forever.

I message the man I trust most, happy and excited, and he too is happy for me. He makes plans with me to see me tomorrow. He’s gotten that million-dollar contract, so he’s happy. He also sounds happy on the phone that I am happy, and I want to tell my father - see? This man I trust utterly, he’s a good man.

Three months from now, the man I trust utterly will bury me in a wooden box in a forest, and leave me there.

#spilled ink #spilled prose #storyworthy #homework for life #14//7/22

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shg11 · 7 years ago

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I've been around the block on this website a few times, and I've noticed that if there are two things you bitches love, it's horoscopes and. I count myself firmly in this camp, BTW. I'm not going to act like I'm above either of those things. So I thought to myself, "Why not combine the two things betches hold most dear, into one completely nonsensical accurate horoscope?" And that's exactly what I did. Through some very careful plotting of the movement of the stars and calling upon my own photographic memory of every episode of , I bring you: What SVU detective are you based on your horoscope? If you've ever tried to convince your friends that you're an Olivia, I'm going to need you to take every single seat. Everyone thinks they're an Olivia, okay? In reality, only one sign can be Benson. And Benson isn't even the best SVU detective (now sergeant). So which of these dedicated detectives who make up this elite squad are you? Read 'em and weep.

Aries - Amanda Rollins

Yeah, I bet you all thought I’d start this list off with Benson because Aries are natural born leaders, didn’t you? Surprise, bitch. Y’all get Rollins. Rollins came into the SVU squad hot by catching that identical twin serial rapist who followed his innocent twin brother across state lines to commit assault after assault, so we all thought she was a good one. Just like you, Aries, Rollins has some promising qualities. But you know what Aries’ worst quality is? They’re impulsive, impatient, and moody. Rollins has a fucking gambling addiction (impulsive), won't be put on desk duty even though she's pregnant (impatient), and won’t stop enabling her piece of shit sister who TRIED TO SEND HER TO PRISON (too fucking sentimental aka moody)��so yeah, I think that all describes Rollins impeccably. Sorry not sorry, you secretly suck.

^See? MOODY!

Taurus - Mike Dodds

Taurus (Taurans? Tauri?) are reliable and responsible, but they can also be stubborn and uncompromising. Likewise, Dodds was a professional through and through, unlike the rest of these bozos that make up this so-called “elite squad”. Dodds did his work. He even helmed the SVU for a while. But he also refused to leave SVU for a cushy job at the joint terrorism task force that his dad had set up for him. It was a stubborn move that ultimately led to his death—and if there's one thing Taurus is known for, it's bullheadedness. Not even a pun, just actual factual. Taurus, your ability to stick to your guns is admirable, just make sure it doesn’t get you shot in the line of duty. (Ok, pun was unintentional at first, but then I decided to just go with it.)

Gemini - Ed Tucker

That’s fucking right, Gemini, you’re not even a real SVU detective because your ass can’t be trusted. Geminis are literally known for being two-faced, and there’s nobody the SVU distrusts more than Tucker over at IAB. He supposedly works for the NYPD, and yet that guy seems to have a personal vendetta against the Special Victims Unit. Why? (*Thinks back to every illegal maneuver Stabler, Amaro, etc. have ever gotten away with* Oh. Ok.) One minute, you’re convinced he’s shutting down the SVU for good, the next, he’s like, "Gotcha!! You all THOUGHT I would make you face the consequences for your actions... psych!" I just cannot figure this guy out, just like I cannot figure out what my dad will get angry about and what he'll be cool with, and my dad is also a Gemini. Coincidence? IDK, I'll bring it up in my next therapy session. That said, it’s not completely fair to paint Geminis as unpredictable freaks—you can be very thoughtful and affectionate, which is I assume how Tucker managed to win over Benson. And, I’ll admit, Ed wasn’t a bad guy and was probably the most stable and caring male figure in Benson’s life thus far. Retirement suited him well. Not saying the same goes for you, Gemini, but you might want to take that 401K seriously just in case. (Not horoscope-related advice, just general life advice.)

Cancer - Dani Beck

Cancers are the pussies of the zodiac in the sense that they are highly emotional. Hey, don’t cry at me; I’m just the messenger. This bleeding heart Dani tries to take in a child because she feels bad for her, only she doesn’t bother to do it the proper way, like, through the authorities or New York State foster care system (whatever that is). She’s just all, “Oh you’re so cute and emotionally disturbed, come sleep on my couch.” That plan went up in flames—literally. Hope she had renter's insurance. Later on, once again too emotional to make a decision on whether to stay in the SVU or leave, Dani tries to put the decision onto Elliot, who’s like “nah fam, I'm not doing this." Cancer, it’s great that you care about people, but try thinking with your brain sometime. It might get you into less trouble and life-threatening situations. There is a limit to empathy. You know what they say: Don’t set yourself on fire to keep other people warm. Okay, enough fire metaphors.

^Honestly, Munch, a valid question.

Leo - Nick Amaro

Everyone thinks Aries are the leader of the zodiac, but anyone who actually bothers to read horoscopes other than their own knows Leos are always shadily killing it. Y’all are warm, action-oriented, and driven by the desire to be loved. That last bit reminded me a lot of Michael Scott, but we can save e horoscopes for another day. Anyway, you Leos are Amaro, you lucky bitches. You’re a sun sign so you’re hot (I know it’s a huge stretch but please, let me have my thirst), but you’re also loyal and trustworthy. Tbh, Nick was loyal to Olivia almost to a fault (kind of like another certain partner of hers…what perfume does she wear?). However, Leos are also stubborn af and inflexible, kinda like how Nick refused to see that his marriage was crumbling right before his very eyes. Andddd kinda like how Nick was told not to hunt down pedophile David Rosen on his own accord like some state-funded vigilante, but he beat him to a bloody pulp anyway and almost lost his job and actually compromised his entire career for it. Fam. I was rooting for you, we were all rooting for you!

Virgo - John Munch

All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy, and it also makes up one of Virgo’s major flaws, according to the random horoscope website off of which I based most of this list. As a Virgo, you’re hardworking, practical, and loyal, but you can also be a worrywart who’s overly critical. Sound familiar? It should, because while Munch is the ultimate ride-or-die for the SVU squad, the dude is also kind of a nutcase. Like, he probably doesn’t have a smartphone because he thinks the government has bugged it (and he’s probably not wrong tbh given that every WiFi device was just hacked and nobody in the media is reporting about this). Munch is always ranting and raving about Big Brother, and he probably should chill a bit, seeing as he literally works for the government. But Munch, and Virgos, will probably be right, only they won't say "I told you so" because they hate attention. Although a bit of a wallflower, Virgos are extremely perceptive. Similarly, if you listen closely to anything Munch says, you will notice that he is always getting to the heart of people's issues with this one-liner jabs, and no one ever gives him the proper acknowledgment for his biting sarcasm and critiques. Ah, well. That's life, as a sarcastic Jiminy Cricket, I suppose.

^That's the pot calling the kettle paranoid, eh, John?

Libra - Odafin Tutuola

Balanced and fair and not one to rock the boat, Libras are Ice-T to a T. Am I biased because I’m a Libra and Ice-T is my favorite SVU detective? Probably, but what are you gonna do? Arrest me? Look, Ice-T… fine, FIN, is the cool, calm, and collected detective who doesn’t get rattled, even when people call him racist slurs in the interrogation room. He’s also prone to playing “good cop” and pretending to empathize with the perps so he can get a good confession. (Seriously, watch like, any episode and I bet you’ll hear Fin say something like, “I get it. You spent all that money on dinner and she wouldn’t give it up? Who does that bitch think she is?”). Libras are all about keeping the peace and care about others, which can sometimes blow up in their faces, like when you try to not get involved with Rollins’ obvious gambling addiction but then it starts affecting her work and you end up loaning her thousands of dollars to go undercover in an underground casino. C’mon, Fin. You don’t give money to an addict. That’s like, rule number one of enabling. You’re never gonna get that bread back. Be kind, be fair, but don’t be a fucking patsy.

Scorpio - Elliot Stabler

The word “Scorpio” is basically synonymous with “psycho,” so here we fucking are, Scorpio/Stabler. Are you surprised? You shouldn’t be, because you know you’re one clever perp or issue with your kids away from taking a dive off the deep end. (You really should get those children in therapy. And also, stop calling your son "Dicky". I bet that's the root of like, 75% of his issues.) Sure, Scorpios are assertive and natural born leaders—that’s what got you here and why you succeeded for so many seasons. But, to put it bluntly, you’re also a fucking sadists who enjoy watching people suffer. Which would explain the multiple department-ordered anger management classes and the string of pedophiles who’ve almost walked away scot-free because you couldn’t control your fists in the interrogation room, ELLIOT.

Sagittarius - Dominick Carisi Jr.

Yeah, I didn't know there was a Dominick Carisi Sr., either, until I looked it up just now. Mind blown. Curious and energetic, Sagittarius keep an open mind, much like how Carisi went from being a low-key misogynist (it wasn’t really malicious; he was just ignorant) to #WokeBae in the span of only a few seasons. We also have to respect Carisi’s thirst for knowledge, as he’s the only one on this squad who’s ever made significant moves to better himself by going to law school—and no, attending department mandated therapy sessions does not count as “bettering” oneself (you know who you are). Despite meaning well, Sagittarius can sometimes put their foot in their mouth and say whatever comes to mind, no matter how undiplomatic their ideas may be. And I’d say that describes, oh, 90% of Carisi’s opinions in his first season. It’s okay, Carisi. You’re learning. Sagittarius are travel lovers, but I swear to God if Carisi leaves the show and they keep Olivia, there will be hell to pay. Do you hear me, Dick?! HELL!

Capricorn - Olivia Benson

Capricorns are responsible and disciplined, and while I personally am not living for Olivia’s character arc as of late, I’ve gotta say the woman is responsible when it comes to like, her kid and also like, not completely waving her middle finger in the face of the law and NYPD procedure (*cough* Amaro *cough* STABLER *COUGHS UP A LUNG*). Sorry. Anyway, Capricorns are good managers, and Olivia is doing a pretty decent job managing this squad of goons. (Mostly directed at Rollins.) Independent in their personal and professional lives, a Capricorn’s personal motto is “Can’t Tell Me Nothin’”. And if that’s not Olivia, IDK what is. You really can’t tell this woman nothin’. You can’t tell her not to date every man in her immediate professional circle; you can’t tell her to fucking TELL SOMEONE if she’s going to go off and secretly meet known rapist and sadistic kidnapper, William Louis, in an abandoned building; you can’t tell her that no, a woman who gets tricked into bed by a man who lied about his name and job title was not raped. Seriously, that’s not how it works, Olivia. That’s not how any of this works.

^Never forget

Aquarius - Monique Jeffries

Aquarians are usually shy and quiet, but they can have a bit of a crazy and unpredictable side. Who else better fits that bill than Jeffries, the woman who never did anything interesting until boom, one explosion and she’s gone off the deep end, going on dates with former rape suspects. Just think about that. Sorry your horoscope is kind of lame, but like, there's not a whole lot to say about you or this woman. Become more interesting and then report back to me with your results.

Pisces - Brian Cassidy

Pisces, y’all are some paranoid and hysterical motherfuckers. You get way too sentimental and it can hinder your life progress—kinda like how Cassidy gets made fun of in season one because he can’t control his emotions about the cases. And like, I get it, I’m sure I wouldn’t be able to be cavalier in the face of sex crimes, but that’s why I didn’t sign myself up to work in the sex crimes division of the NYPD. Know yourself. Work on that, and then maybe you can have another brief stint in SVU a full decade later. One of Pisces' major weaknesses is their desire to escape reality, which can get them into trouble—for instance, when they sign up for a multi-year undercover operation, get into a relationship with a prostitute, get shot and almost die when their undercover status is exposed, and later on get accused of rape by a prostitute they met undercover years prior which causes them to get demoted. You know, just a totally random example. Find a healthy and less literal way to escape reality, Pisces/Cassidy.

Read more: http://www.betches.com/what-law-and-order-svu-detective-you-are-based-on-your-horoscope

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carolightpenvenys · 7 years ago

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doctors- a penvenys AU chapter 3

Dwight knew as soon as his phone rang at 1:45am that it was bad news.

“What.. the fuck ?” He turned the light on and winced at the sudden change of scenery before fumbling for his phone.

“Hello?” He yawned blearily. He hadn’t even had time for contacts, placing his glasses so they more or less hung off his nose.

“Dwight it’s me.” The voice was almost unrecognisable and incredibly shaky.

“Demelza?” He was shocked because if anyone wasn’t a morning person, it was her. “What’s going on?”

“This is going to sound stupid but- I need someone to come and sit with me.” Her voice showed a feigned courage but underlying fear. “Caroline isn’t well.”

Dwight’s heart dropped, knowing how much this meant to her. “I will be there in half an hour- do you want me to bring board games and colouring books?” He knew her favourite car journey distractions could help around about now.

“Sounds good. Sorry I would’ve asked Ross but he’s in surgery you know.” Her voice was dead and this concerned Dwight more than it should.

“I’m going to hang up now, will you be ok?”

“Yeah.”

He arrived at the hospital and found Demelza looking lost in reception. “They’ve evacuated her room Dwight. None of my flowers are there or anything.” She collapsed into a chair in the waiting room full of late night A+E victims.

“They’ll keep her in intensive care for a while and then move her back I’m sure.” Dwight replied calmly, taking his backpack off and getting out the pocket board games he’d bought.

“But that’s not it.” A tear squeezed the corner of Demelza’s eye. “She’s having surgery now and they’re not sure her body will cope- one of her fractured ribs is interfering with her organs and she’s already in shutdown mode. I don’t even know if she will make it through the night. They won’t let me be on duty because they can clearly see I’m a mess but I’m a bag of nerves.”

As a qualified doctor who sometimes flirted with surgery, Dwight knew that this was not good at all. In fact, there was very little chance Caroline would make it. His heart dropped that he’d encouraged such bottomless optimism in Demelza and somehow in himself? Just by talking to her he felt attached in a way he couldn’t comprehend and so he figured out playing a game was the best solution.

“So Cluedo is out because there’s only two of us.” Dwight decided not to reply to Demelza directly because she needed time. “But I have Kerplunk.”

Demelza offered a watery smile. “I love Kerplunk.”

So Dwight spent the next 5 minutes setting it up in tense silence with both their pagers on the table between them, a constant reminder of what was going on around them.

But once the game started, tension leaked out a little bit. It was a game that didn’t need any words but could still be enjoyed and could still occupy minds and that was the goal really.

Dwight was also terrible at Kerplunk whereas Demelza could play for England so when finding himself with many marbles and her with very few, her smile seemed to become genuine, almost forgetting the tense circumstances. Dwight was relieved by this.

A nurse came strolling in at around 2:30am to which Demelza asked, “Any news Prudy?”

“Unfortunately not.” Her arms were crossed and she looked as if she hadn’t slept in days. “Also, Sister Keren wants you to clock in now. She says we ought to make use of youse bein’ here while you are.”

“Wait.” Demelza’s eyes widened and eyebrows raised simultaneously. “She’s asking me to start a fucking shift? Like this?” She presented herself with her hands, indicating her watery eyes and lack of scrubs. “Well she can go fuck herself.”

“Ain’t gonna be easy tellin’ her that.” Prudy winced. “But I understand. T’int right t’int fair t’int just t’int proper. Listen I’m supposed ta clock out round three but will stay ‘til six ta cover ye.”

“Prudy.” Demelza stood up, taking her hand. “You couldn’t possibly.”

“I know ya’d do the same.” She shrugged modestly. “And s’truth. Fuck sister Keren.” And with that she turned on her heel and left.

“My god.” Demelza turned back to Dwight and sat down. “I would die for that woman.”

“Maybe I should just become a nurse.” Dwight shrugged. “Doctors are absolutely merciless.”

“Ay, well you’ve gotta stick together when your pay is being docked hourly by the government.” She shrugged. “Fuck Theresa May right?”

“Yup.” Dwight was so tired and his head was swimming. But he knew he could always nod to that.

They packed Kerplunk away and Dwight left Demelza with an adult colouring book whilst he tried to make sense of his hectic schedule for tomorrow where he was scheduled in about 3 places at once. And to think, he became a GP for less work.

The clock struck 4am and it was radio silence all round.

“I’m going to have a wander round.” Dwight told Demelza, putting the random tabloid he was reading down. “See if I can hear anything. I start at six though so I can’t promise I will be back.”

“If you hear anything.” Demelza’s eyes were weeping. “Tell me straight away- page me or something.”

“Ok.” And with that, Dwight stumbled off, to try and hear things and to nap in his office before his shift.

His hands were on his cheeks trying to get some life into his face as he carried his backpack like a lost explorer.

“Oh thank God Ross.” He saw his friend across the corridor and reached out to him. “Have you heard anything about Caroline? Demelza’s driving herself mad.” He yawned.

“It’s 50/50.” Ross frowned. “I’ve just come from putting a cast on at A+E but they had to pull her out of the induced coma to operate and they aren’t sure if her body’s strong enough.”

Dwight sucked in his teeth. “But she’s alive?”

“For the minute, yes. This doesn’t come without risk but they only put her in an induced coma as a precaution you know- it’s just a case of her body being ready to come back at full force.” Ross shrugged. “We won’t know until she’s recovered from surgery but the doctors reckon her other injuries have healed enough for her to come out of an induced coma if she’s successful. All we can do is wait- we should know by about 9am.”

Dwight looked at his watch. It was a quarter to six.

“They’re being so quiet in surgery it’s impossible to know what’s going on. Just start your day as normal.” Ross tried to sound convincing.

Dwight huffed before heading off to his office. He had a packed morning including two hours of doing low-key jobs in A+E like stitches.

Evidently he had no way of napping before a shift. He was due to finish at 12 though so there was a silver lining.

“Dr Enys, the antibiotics aren’t working.”

“Rosina, it’s called antibiotic therapy.” Dwight rolled his eyes. His last appointment of the day was a sad twist of fate. “It means you have to take all of them until you run out. You’ve taken about a week’s worth.”

“You know…” She looked at him, pouting and leaning forward. “I thought this would involve actual therapy- you know like one on one.”

“Sorry Rosina.” He laughed nervously. “My face can’t cure chlamydia.” He backed away. “So really if you just keep taking your drugs you should be absolutely fine- no need to see me again.”

Thank God.

He was about to cry with relief that he’d finally finished his day when his pager went off. It was one of the sisters claiming there was an emergency that he needed to attend to before he clocked out. So maybe his shift would end around three now. He sighed.

“Sorry Miss Hoblyn but I have an emergency to attend to.” Dwight muttered dryly, kicking open the door for her. He had heard a rumour earlier in the day that some idiot had been trying to perform stunts on his motorbike and Dwight was probably needed to do some stitches or something.

He reached the intensive care unit and looked for the right bed- number 64. He had bought his bag with him just in case he was needed for stitches so he thought himself well prepared to do some stitches or something.

He realised when he opened the curtain of number 64 that the answer was or something.

He dropped his bag straight on the floor and his face was white.

Directly in front of him was an incredibly lifelike Caroline Penvenen looking very smug considering not even 24 hours ago she was on death’s door.

“Don’t you just love that they gave me my own pager?” She shook it in her hand. “And you were first on my list to call… I heard you’re the best doctor they have in this godforsaken place.” She was immobile but it was what to be expected from someone who hadn’t moved for months.

“I’m-I’m sorry.” The situation had not yet dawned on him that he was speaking to a real, animate Caroline Penvenen. Of whom he had told several of his secrets too whilst she lay in a hospital bed. “I’m not an intensive care doctor- we have some really good ones though.”

“That’s funny because Demelza told me that you do a little bit of everything- so why not me?” He expected her to be shy but she smiled with ease until it was almost a smirk.

“Um-”

“Did you know, just before my accident, Demelza was so keen to get me to break up with my boyfriend she was going to set us up on a blind date?”

Dwight looked up and into her eyes. Abort. This was a mistake. Her gaze was intense. “Would you have gone?” He asked.

“Dr Enys!” She feigned surprise. “What kind of woman do you think I am? I’m loyal to a man.”

“Oh- I didn’t realise.” Dwight stuttered, embarrassed. “I never saw him call into see you.

“Well I guess the wedding is off then.” She frowned but she didn’t really seem too bothered. Dwight was struck. Demelza was lying? She didn’t just have a boyfriend but she was engaged too?

“I’m just kidding.” She broke the silence. “I do have a boyfriend though and he’s coming for me.”

Dwight’s stomach sank now not just due to jealousy but plainly because he knew this to be incredibly unlikely. He’s seen patients like this before and he just knew that somehow or another, she would end up heartbroken.

#poldark #fanfic #dwight x caroline #dwight enys #caroline penvenen #doctorscarolightpenvenys

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ralphspina-blog1 · 7 years ago

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Beatles songs for Band of Brothers characters

AND HERE IS PART THREE OF MY TOTALLY UNPLANNED BUT AWESOME (i hope) HBO WAR PLAYLIST TRILOGY! It’s going behind a read more because it’s insanely long, and I do apologise to anyone who doesn’t have their fav on here, but the cast size and the discography scope could’ve combined to have me doing this forever. I had to throw down some limits. Thank you for coming on this wild ride with me! Or if you’ve just tuned in, welcome, and I hope you enjoy <3

Dick Winters: Hey Jude // And anytime you feel the pain, hey Jude, refrain / Don't carry the world upon your shoulders / For well you know that it's a fool who plays it cool / By making his world a little colder / So let it out and let it in, hey Jude, begin / You're waiting for someone to perform with / And don't you know that it's just you? / Hey Jude, you'll do / The movement you need is on your shoulder

Lewis Nixon: Baby, You’re a Rich Man // How does it feel to be one of the beautiful people? / Now that you know who you are, what do you want to be? / And have you traveled very far? / Far as the eye can see / Tuned to a natural E / Happy to be that way / Now that you've found another key, what are you going to play?

Harry Welsh: All My Loving // Close your eyes and I'll kiss you / Tomorrow I'll miss you / Remember I'll always be true / And then while I'm away, I'll write home every day / And I'll send all my loving to you / I'll pretend that I'm kissing the lips I am missing / And hope that my dreams will come true / And then while I'm away, I'll write home every day / And I'll send all my loving to you

Ron Speirs: The Continuing Story of Bungalow Bill // He went out tiger hunting with his elephant and gun / In case of accidents, he always took his mom / He's the all American bullet-headed saxon mother's son / Deep in the jungle where the mighty tiger lies / Bill and his elephants were taken by surprise / So Captain Marvel zapped in right between the eyes / The children asked him if to kill was not a sin / Not when he looked so fierce, his mother butted in / If looks could kill it would have been us instead of him

Carwood Lipton: While My Guitar Gently Weeps // I look at the world and I notice it's turning / While my guitar gently weeps / With every mistake, we must surely be learning / Still my guitar gently weeps / I don't know how nobody told you how to unfold your love / I don't know how someone controlled you / They bought and sold you / I look at you all / I see the love there that's sleeping / While my guitar gently weeps

Donald Malarkey: With a Little Help From My Friends // What do I do when my love is away / (Does it worry you to be alone?) / How do I feel by the end of the day / (Are you sad because you're on your own?) / Would you believe in a love at first sight? / Yes, I'm certain that it happens all the time / What do you see when you turn out the light? / I can't tell you, but I know it's mine / I’ll get by with a little help from my friends

Bill Guarnere: Getting Better // Me used to be angry young man / Me hiding me head in the sand / You gave me the word, I finally heard / I'm doing the best that I can / Man, I was mean, but I'm changing my scene / And I'm doing the best that I can / I've got to admit, it's getting better / A little better all the time/ Can’t get no worse

George Luz: Sgt Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band // It was twenty years ago today / Sgt. Pepper taught the band to play / They've been going in and out of style / But they're guaranteed to raise a smile / So may I introduce to you / The act you've known for all these years / Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band / It's wonderful to be here / It's certainly a thrill / You're such a lovely audience / We'd like to take you home with us / We'd love to take you home

Joe Liebgott: Hey Bulldog // Some kind of happiness is measured out in miles / What makes you think you're something special when you smile? / Childlike, no one understands / Jackknife in your sweaty hands / Some kind of innocence is measured out in years / You don't know what it's like to listen to your fears / Some kind of solitude is measured out in you / You think you know me, but you haven't got a clue

Buck Compton: Yesterday // Yesterday all my troubles seemed so far away / Now it looks as though they're here to stay / Oh, I believe in yesterday / Suddenly I'm not half the man I used to be / There's a shadow hanging over me / Oh, yesterday came suddenly / Yesterday love was such an easy game to play / Now I need a place to hide away

Skip Muck & Alex Penkala: Two of us // Two of us riding nowhere / Spending someone's hard earned pay / Two of us Sunday driving / Not arriving / On our way back home / Two of us sending postcards / Writing letters on my wall / You and me burning matches / Lifting latches / On our way back home / You and I have memories longer than the road that stretches out ahead

Eugene Roe: Dear Prudence // Dear Prudence, open up your eyes / Dear Prudence, see the sunny skies / The wind is low, the birds will sing that you are part of everything / Dear Prudence, won't you open up your eyes? / Dear Prudence, let me see you smile / Dear Prudence, like a little child / The clouds will be a daisy chain / So let me see you smile again

Babe Heffron: Help! // When I was younger, so much younger than today / I never needed anybody's help in any way / But now these days are gone, and I'm not so self assured / And now I find I've changed my mind, I've opened up the doors / And now my life has changed in oh so many ways / My independence seems to vanish in the haze / But ev'ry now and then I feel so insecure / I know that I just need you like I've never done before

Joe Toye: Helter Skelter // When I get to the bottom I go back to the top of the slide / Where I stop and I turn and I go for a ride / ‘Til I get to the bottom and I see you again / Do you, don't you want me to love you? / I'm coming down fast but I'm miles above you / Will you, won't you want me to make you? / I'm coming down fast but don't let me break you / Tell me, tell me / Tell me the answer / You may be a lover but you ain't no dancer

Frank Perconte: Old Brown Shoe // If I grow up I'll be a singer / Wearing rings on every finger/ Not worrying what they or you say / I'll live and love and maybe someday / Who knows, baby, you may comfort me / I may appear to be imperfect / My love is something you can't reject / I'm changing faster than the weather / If you and me should get together / Who knows, baby, you may comfort me

Floyd Talbert: One after 909 // My baby said she's trav'ling on the one after 909 / I said move over honey I'm traveling on that line / I said move over once, move over twice / Come on baby don't be cold as ice / Said she's trav'ling on the one after 909 / I got my bag, run to the station / Railman says you've got the the wrong location / I got my bag, run right home / Then I find I've got the number wrong

Charles Grant: Any Time At All // If you're feeling sorry and sad, I'd really sympathize / If the sun has faded away, I'll try to make it shine / There's nothing I won't do / If you need a shoulder to cry on, I hope it will be mine / Call me tonight, and I'll come to you / Any time at all, all you've gotta do is call and I'll be there

Bull Randleman: Fixing a Hole // I'm fixing a hole where the rain gets in / And stops my mind from wandering / Where it will go / I'm filling the cracks that ran through the door / And kept my mind from wandering / Where it will go / And it really doesn't matter if I'm wrong / I'm right where I belong I'm right / Where I belong / I'm taking the time for a number of things that weren't important yesterday

Johnny Martin: Good Morning, Good Morning // Going to work, don't want to go, feeling low down / Heading for home, you start to roam, then you're in town / Everybody knows there's nothing doing / Everything is closed, it's like a ruin / Everyone you see is half asleep / And you're on your own, you're in the street / Good morning, good morning / Nothing has changed, it's still the same / I've got nothing to say but it's okay / Good morning, good morning

David Webster: We Can Work it Out // Think of what you're saying / You can get it wrong and still you think that it's alright / Think of what I'm saying / We can work it out and get it straight, or say good night / Try to see it my way / Only time will tell if I am right or I am wrong / While you see it your way / There's a chance that we may fall apart before too long / We can work it out

Shifty Powers: All You Need is Love // There’s nothing you can make that can't be made / No one you can save that can't be saved / Nothing you can do, but you can learn how to be you in time / It's easy / Nothing you can know that isn't known / Nothing you can see that isn't shown / Nowhere you can be that isn't where you're meant to be / It's easy/ All you need is love

Skinny Sisk: Boys // I been told when a boy kiss a girl / Take a trip around the world / My girl says when I kiss her lips / Gets a thrill through her fingertips / Yeah, she say ya do / Well, I’m talking about boys / Don’t you know I mean boys / What a bundle of joy!

Renee Lemaire: Eleanor Rigby // Eleanor Rigby died in the church and was buried along with her name / Nobody came / Father McKenzie, wiping the dirt from his hands as he walks from the grave / No one was saved / All the lonely people / Where do they all come from? / All the lonely people / Where do they all belong?

Ralph Spina: When I’m Sixty-Four // I could be handy, mending a fuse when your lights have gone / You can knit a sweater by the fireside / Sunday mornings, go for a ride / Doing the garden, digging the weeds / Who could ask for more / Will you still need me, will you still feed me when I'm sixty-four?

Albert Blithe: Blackbird // Blackbird singing in the dead of night / Take these broken wings and learn to fly / All your life / You were only waiting for this moment to arise / Blackbird singing in the dead of night / Take these sunken eyes and learn to see / All your life / You were only waiting for this moment to be free / Blackbird fly, blackbird fly / Into the light of the dark black night

John Janovec: A Day In the Life // I read the news today, oh boy / About a lucky man who made the grade / And though the news was rather sad / Well, I just had to laugh / I saw the photograph / I saw a film today, oh boy / The English army had just won the war / A crowd of people turned away / But I just had to look, having read the book

Herbert Sobel: I’m Looking Through You // I'm looking through you, where did you go? / I thought I knew you / What did I know? / You don't look different, but you have changed / I'm looking through you / You're not the same / You're thinking of me the same old way / You were above me, but not today / The only difference is you're down there / I'm looking through you, and you’re nowhere

Norman Dike: Nowhere Man // He’s a real nowhere man / Living in his nowhere land / Making all his nowhere plans for nobody / Doesn’t have a point of view / Knows not where he’s going to / Isn’t he a bit like you and me? / Nowhere Man, don’t worry / Take your time, don’t hurry / Leave it all ‘til somebody else lends you a hand

#band of brothers #fandom playlists #THIS BEAST #it is complete #music recs

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chris--daae · 8 years ago

Text

Would you like some tea? [Platonic E/C] - Chapter 1

Thank you, thank you so much to everyone who showed interest in this! Well, without delay, here the fluff starts.

Would you like some tea?

Synopsis: If you love someone, let them go. If they come back, offer them tea.

Erik did not die. The following days were very ordinary, actually. He slept, and he cooked, and played some music to distract himself. He cleaned his room, and he checked his traps, and a few times he just sat outside, looking at the lake. There was sadness inside of him, but not the unbearable sadness that filled him before at the mere thought of losing Christine. Though he missed her more than any words in any language could possibly express, life went on. It was strange. Erik did not want to check what was happening above, in the opera. He hoped his lack of activity did not made the managers forget his salary. He did not want to risk hearing any news about Christine, or seeing her if she was still around. It would be too much, the temptation would be too strong. It was better to stay home, alone, where he really belonged. It had been already one week since Erik said goodbye to Christine. The day started like any other ordinary day. He ate breakfast and cleaned the kitchen, then went to the drawing room and decided to study for a while. Then, he heard the sound. Footsteps. Close, too close. He at first thought it would be the Persian, that annoying fellow. But he remembered the Persian had no means of crossing the lake without him knowing. The only person who could get so close to his domain without him noticing was Christine. Well, her or whoever she gave the key to. Erik felt strangely peaceful. So, this was how it ended. He was ready for it. He heard only one set of footsteps, so it was only one person. Good, good. It would not get too messy. Erik did not bother to get his mask from the table where it rested. He liked the idea that the person who was to take his life would have to deal with a lifetime of nightmares. A last farewell gift. He waited. And waited. The footsteps were slow, and stopped a few times before continuing. There was nowhere for them to get lost, so it could only mean they were hesitant. Erik would have laughed if he wasn't so impatient. At last, a figure appeared by the door. It was not a stagehand, or a fireman, or a guard. It was a short and young blonde woman. Erik's hands raised immediately to his face, and he jumped up from the couch, turning away from the door. "What are you doing here?", he asked, his voice low and calm, though he felt anything but. Christine asked herself the same question. What was she doing there? After all thar happened, she should never want to step on that house again. Still, something seemed to call her back there. She needed to be sure. Before she decided to do anything, before she could go on with her life, she needed to be sure that Erik said the truth. At least, that was how she reasoned with herself. "I thought I would find you here.", she said. Erik took slow steps to the table, to get his mask. He did not dare to face Christine like that, but he yearned to look at her, to make sure that this was real, that she was really there. "Well, where else would I be?", he said, a small smile appearing on his lips. He finally reached for his mask, and quickly put it on. Christine looked as beautiful as always. Her blonde hair was tied, and she wore a blue dress, light enough for the warm weather but still modest. Erik found himself unable to read her expression. "I just don't understand why you would want to find me.", he finally said. Christine looked down to the key she held. "I didn't know if it would work." "As you can see, it does.", Erik replied, a bit offended. Even when he tried to do something right, he was met with distrust. At least Christine had a reason to not trust him, though. Christine blushed slightly. She had believed from the beginning that it was the real key, but she still needed to check it for herself. "I don't plan on leaving this place in the near future.", Erik added. "So you don't need to worry." Christine nodded. Some seconds that felt like an eternity for both passed. Erik wondered why Christine didn't leave already, now that she had asserted what she wanted to, but at the same time he didn't want her to. Christine asked herself the same question. "I thought you might feel lonely here." Erik raised an eyebrow. "Loneliness has never been a problem for me, you don't need to worry about it." "Well," Christine looked away. "I felt lonely too." Erik blinked a few times, unable to believe the words he was hearing. That had to be some play, some trick from his mind. He decided to play along. "Please, take a seat.", he pointed to the couch. "Would you like some tea?" Christine wasn't sure of how to respond, as that was not the reaction she was expecting from him. In the end, she sat down and showed an awkward smile. "Yes, thank you." Erik walked to the kitchen, thankful that he had an excuse to leave. He closed the door. "What the hell?", he whispered to himself. That was it. He went completely mad. Or maybe he was already dead, and this was what happened in the afterlife. Heaven or Hell, he wondered. Having Christine near him was better than any description of Heaven, but he knew his own luck, and at any moment this could shatter and cause him a pain worst than the flames of Hell. Better make the tea. Christine waited, feeling embarrassed. She didn't know why she said what she said. It was not a lie, but iit was also not something that she wished him to know. The truth was that she missed him. Not all of him, of course. She did not miss the constant fear of being watched, or having to think over and over each sentence she spoke. But when it came to Erik, there was much more to him than just that. When he was not weeping or shouting, he could be a nice company, and that was what she missed. Erik arrived with the tea. He offered a cup to her, and sat down on the other couch, as far from her as possible. "Why did you not go to the Vicomte?", he asked, eyes down. "It does not concern you.", Christine answered. He gave her a questioning look. "Really, it has nothing to do it with you." "I am sure he could quickly cure your loneliness.", Erik didn't intend to sound as bitter as he did. "I don't doubt it.", Christine nodded, sipping on her tea. Erik lowered his gaze to his own hands. "Are you still afraid?", he whispered. "Not anymore.", Christine replied. "I trust you." "Really?" "Why would you lie about this? To catch me in some sick trap? This is not the kind of person you are." "I am capable of many things that would scare you, Christine." "I know.", Christine sounded more secure in her affirmation than she really felt. "But this would not be like you." Erik nodded. Even in his worst moment, letting Christine go and punishing her for not coming back was not his style. If he had it his way, he would never leave her for even one second. But he knew his way would cause her only unhappiness, and he did not want that. When did her happiness become more important than his own? "Since now you are respecting me as a human being, I thought I could do the same for you.", Christine explained. "You don't need to." "I know." "I don't deserve it." Christine shrugged. "I still want to do it." She stared into his eyes. Erik felt exposed, as if she could see much more than he wished to show. "I want to know who you are. Behind the tricks and fantasies. Not the Angel or the Phantom, I want to know who Erik is." "I don't think you will like him.", he looked away. There was a reason he hid behind so many personas, so many masks other than the one on his face. "Do you have anything to lose? I don't think it could be worse than... you know." Erik gave it some thought. Christine has seen and endured some terrible behavior from him. At least he would be able to see and talk to her a few more times before she realized that he was just as bad as he seemed and gave up. There was indeed not much to lose. Besides, he knew Christine could be very insistent for what she wished. "You have the key. You may visit whenever you wish. As you know, I don't leave home a lot." He finally said. Christine showed him a big smile. She had never smiled at him that way before. It was an image he would treasure forever. Maybe it could be worth it to expose himself a little if it meant he could keep Christine in his life for a little longer.

#me writes #phic #the phantom of the opera #christine daae #erik #want tea

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oswaldsleeping · 8 years ago

Text

Series: medusa

Chapter Title: folk voice

Chapter(s): 1/? Rating: E Wordcount: 3024 Warnings: suicide (for this chapter) Summary: Author’s Notes: i’ve been thinking about this story for a long time.

The snow begins.

The motor growls in the cold, headlights flashing gold-yellow in the dim light. The storm's just starting, the once tiny flakes beginning to fatten. The clouds are a dark grey, almost black – it's going to be a bad one.

It's been a quiet drive – the music's turned low on the stereo, the heat's turned down. He's used to the cold, has a soft spot for it. Indiana gets chilly in the mornings and he remembers the dawn, getting up to feed the livestock, his fingers burning and red at the tips. He remembers Chicago, remembers the year in the appropriately named “Windy City” (remembers that that is a year he'd like to forget, thanks) - the winds would bite down to the bone. He can still feel Chicago in his lungs sometimes.

Soft spot or not, he still has enough sense to dress for the occasion (somewhat). The biker jacket staves off the chill, the leather softened with age, the colors good and faded. It's a memento from an uncle that he can't force himself to throw out, a well loved high school graduation gift. There's a stray strand sticking out of the cuff that bothers the living hell out of him, but it's always been a reliable old thing. The inside is soft and warm and still smells of sweet tobacco.

The song ends – he quickly presses the replay button. Lets his fingers trail over to backpack in his passenger seat, onto the clutch.

There's a brand new pack hidden in his center console. His fingers itch; he wants to rip open the console, tear away that plastic, suck down a good cancer stick. Suck down a few good cancer sticks, hell, he wants the entire goddamned pack. They're 5.99 now-a-days, damned if he's not going to get his money's worth. The girl behind the counter (kind of a ditzy looking thing, baby cheeked and sleepy eyed) mentioned “Quit a year ago” when she handed him the pack. The unspoken, universal sign for “you know these are bad for you, right?”

People always think they have your best interests at heart. In true Jack Morrison fashion, he gave her an award-winning smile and said, “These things are so bad for you – this is my last one.”, walked out the gas station, and threw them in the center console. Out of sight, out of mind.

That was a good three hours ago – the roads have gone from drowsy gas stations, fast food joints, and all-night-diners, to empty land and towering trees. It's startling – he'd forgotten that all of this even existed.

The roads are all empty, save for the stray passing truck. The jeep putters along the lonely roads, the only discernible sound the growling motor and the music playing from his stereo. An mp3 from his phone, soft and sad. Staticky with age. He knows the words, mouths along, I wish to my lord, I'd never seen your face, or heard your lying tongue...

The only movement that catches his eye is the falling snow and the stray winter bird taking flight.

You cause me to weep, you cause me to mourn...

Pa used to play this song sitting on the porch, watching the fields sway in the mid-summer's breeze. Strumming his guitar to the barn cats and the old hunting hound who did nothing but snore.

He can see it now - the colors leak behind his eyes and bitter begins to swell in his mouth. The sun set crimson in the summer nights, the off-gold stalks of wheat, the ever encroaching night. The old Morrison Farm, a painterly memory.

It's been so long, he didn't even say goodbye before he'd left. He'd meant to, meant to walk up the creaky front steps, meant to walk in his old home, but it...just never happened. No time, no energy, he justifies to no one in particular. No time, no energy (no guts).

Pa was going to scold the hell out of him, but he would understand. He always understands.

- - -

(you could go back a tiny voice whispers from the backseat it's only two miles, you could go back and forget this whole bad idea.)

- - -

The road turns from rough, holey asphalt to dirt. The jeep continues to putter, the wheels standing firm on the ice. Joan's a reliable old gal, probably the most consistent thing in his entire life. He'd saved the money for a summer, pinched here and there, worked and worked and worked. The year before he left, he'd bought her from the neighbor down the way for a cool $600. She was a mess, but she was his.

She'd survived Indiana, survived college, survived Chicago, and she would survive this. They were the duo, after all – Jack and his beat up jeep “Joan the Warbler” (so elegantly named after the warbling noise she would make after a freeze had set in). It's one of those titles that has to be said in full – Joan the Warbler, not just “Joan”, not “Jonnie”, and certainly not “Warbler”.

He eyes the backseat, sees a mess of blankets and pillows strategically placed to avoid unwanted viewers and thinks, for a humorless second, that Joan the Warbler's been his longest fling. How...strangely pathetic.

He turns back to the road. The forest seems to grow in size every feet his travels, the spindly branches reaching higher and higher into the sky. It's quiet, so very still. The animals have lain down for their slumber, the birds all flown south. The almost black clouds lumber along in the sky, the branches look like fingers, clawing at the heavens.

A dark figure stands at the side of the road, looking back and forth, waiting for him to drive past. A white tail, he supposes – they've been migrating in the area as of late, undeterred by the bitter cold. They're strangely polite creatures, watching him drive past before it crosses.

There's a glimmer of something as the headlights flash (a shine of eyes, he thinks) and in the rear-view mirror, he watches it walk slowly across the road and back into the forest...strange, he'd never seen a deer with that tall before...

No matter.

- - -

The road stops as a sort of plateau. He pulls Joan the Warbler to the very edge, places the car on idle. The song on the stereo changes, a symphony in allegretto time - a callback to his "all classical music, all the time" phase. He presses the “back” button.

Jack opens the door, sitting at the edge of the seat. Cold has a smell, crisp and clean, that floods his lungs and makes his heart flutter. He turns the stereo down low, leaning on the edge of the door to look into the forest.

In the dim light, the well-trod path into the forest looks almost like a mouth, wide and dark and gaping.

There isn't a person in sight – hasn't been for the last twenty minutes. In the falling snow, there is a perfect stillness.

It's not surprising. No one knew this forest existed, let alone how to get here. It was one of those well kept secrets from his childhood – the forest his siblings had run through, had caught frogs in, the forest he would jog through during high school, the forest he took his first lover to... This is his forest.

It feels like he'd spent his entire life here, tucked against the paper birch trees, nestled in the stubborn tufts of grass, running with the deers and the rabbits. Even now he can remember the dark green of the leaves, the rich brown of the ground, the white-and-black flecks on the trees that created the perfect kind of maze for a child.

In his youth, he could walk the two-and-a-half mile stretch from the farm to the very edge of the forest, over the creek. He remembers washing his feet in the water before trudging home as the sun set, his cheeks ruddy with exertion.

There's a ball of warmth that bubbles in his stomach when he thinks about that. Nostalgia incarnate.

He pulls the keys from the ignition and Joan the Warbler gives a heavy sigh, seemingly happy to rest after such a long drive. Jack pats the steering wheel lovingly, reaches over the center console to snatch up his backpack. He pauses, opens the console and pulls out the cigarettes.

The headlights shine even when the door closes - they'll turn off on their own in a moment. But for now, Jack leans against Joan's grill and tears the plastic with his teeth. His lighter still has a little juice in it, the tiny flame warming his fingers.

It's so weirdly delicious, the nasty tobacco calming the shake in his hands. Once upon a time, smoking was the only thing that could calm his nervous shakes - Laura Palmer, eat your heart out. He watches the snow, tendrils of smoke climbing into the air.

He's going to miss this car.

- - -

At the mouth of the forest, Jack hears that tiny voice again.

We should go back.

He walks in.

- - -

Jack falls into a steady march, his feet matching the slow beat of the blood in his ears. Left, right, left, right, left, right, left – it's soothing in it's monotony. He can concentrate on that, can mark the time in his head. Left, right, left, right, left, right.

His mind toes the line between working overtime and slowing to a crawl and in the chaos between the two, he's created a sort of cocoon to lull himself. The silence is a static white noise, the crunch of snow underfoot the only thing breaking through his pattern. Left, right, left, right.

Clouds roil overhead. For a moment he thinks of the ocean. Is this what the fish see when they look up? Rolling clouds, sloshing and churning? What would be above it, then, where was the surface?

Flakes fall into his eyes, catching in his eyelashes. The gentle fall has turned into a downpour, a fierce wind whipping through the trees. Cold clings like the lover, fingers slipping beneath the folds of his clothes and curling around his cheeks. He buries his head further in his jacket, the burn in his fingers bordering on painful.

He can live with it a few minutes more. Left, right, left, right, left right.

Jack hums in time with his steps, softly singing to keep his pace steady. He can tie bits and pieces of the song together in his brain, frankensteining it as best he can. The song thrums in the back of his head, the steady pluck of a lonely guitar pulsing in his ears. In the pines, in the pines...

Left, right, left, right, left, right

There's a note on the dashboard of his car. A note in the mailbox of the farm that he can't step foot on. A note en route to his sister that will arrive within the day. His affairs are in order to the best of his ability and now...now it's the final act. The curtains wait with bated breath in the wings, ready to close.

The small flutter of fear in his chest is drowned by a strange sort of determination. He begins to walk once more, despite the ache of his feet. The snow has soaked into his boots, blisters will form soon. And still his walks, aimed for the very heart of the forest.

Left, right, left, right

Time clicks by. The storm continues, getting worse and worse with every step and he still he keeps his pace steady, Don't you lie to me...

How awful would it be to find his body? This sad, lonely man, sitting in the center of a forest, waiting for death to find him. How could he do that to some poor person?

No, he'll walk until no one will find him. His note has enough information, they can glean the rest if they want to. Really, who's going to care? Jack didn't know that many people, was actually close to ever fewer. People were loud and chaotic and too much for him to bare half of the goddamned time.

His mask fits perfectly. Quiet, polite, professional. Look any further and you start to see the black-vined kudzu growing on his perfectly polished persona.

you can't have that, can you jackie-boy?

His mask fit perfectly. Now it's askew, cracked at the edges. He can't wear it anymore.

And really, isn't this is a better solution? This is the only solution. And sure, it's equal parts selfish shame and justified hopelessness and goddamned if he cares.

No one will miss him.

It would be just like falling asleep. That's what they said. Like lying down for the great, big sleep; a quiet, dignified death.

If he was lucky, the animals would get to him before the people could – it's a strangely comforting thought. Coming from the earth, going back to it – the circle of life never ends.

There's a thick sheet of the snow on the ground now – up to his calves. The wet trees smells of fresh wood, the snow smells almost tinny now. He's tired, he's so tired. He's ready for that great big sleep, to float away on a magic carpet back to the land of dreams.

He's made his peace. He's ready to see his Pa again.

Left, right, left, right, left, right. The monotonous steps that ring in his ear, the wind of the storm, the crunch of snow. Left, right, left, right.

He walks and he walks until his breath becomes stilted. He leans against a tree, his vision swimming. Jack Morrison is not an unhealthy person – he's a goddamned runner, after all. But he's winded, the ache in his bones thrumming throughout his entire body, and the burn in his fingertips has turned into a full blaze. His face, his body, feels as if it's burning, eyes stinging from the wind. The snow in his boots have rubbed his feet raw and it's actually fairly painful to walk now.

For a second, he tries to remember how long he's walked. The trees behind him look just like the trees in front of him, which look just like the trees he passed ten minuets ago. Jack laughs, breathlessly – it...really never occurred to him how much the cold actually effects you. He really hadn't taken it into account – at the time it hadn't mattered.

Did it matter now?

Jack...well, he just can't tell. The tiny flutter of fear has turned into a tiny flutter of regret, and it's still overpowered by that strange determination.

Just a bit further. All he needs to find a tree big enough, a heavy trunk, one that will let him curl beneath it. And then he can rest. He pushes away, stumbles, rights himself. Begins to walk once more.

His steps are slower, each step taking every inch of strength to do. It's so cold. He wishes his phone had power, he wouldn't mind listening to that song again. Maybe just one last time, a fitting goodbye.

There's something in the corner of his eyesight. Big, dark, creeping closer. Really, it should scare him – there was nothing natural about the way the thing crept, nothing natural about it's ever growing presence.

Instead, it occurred to him that he never realized Death looked like that. Didn't think it walked on four legs or was so tall. Jack had imagined it as so much more...liquidy. Gooey, drippy even. Good for Death, he muses, being drippy and gooey was probably a huge hassle.

He trudges along, one eye watching the creeping-walking-thing, the other trained on the white-and-black trees. The snow billows about, the storm becoming a full fledged blizzard.

The thing creeps closer – he's not afraid. For some morbid reason, he welcomes it. Dying in a blizzard is a surprisingly lonely way to die, after all. If this thing wanted to go with him, who was he to tell it no? He slows his pace even more, lets the thing catch up with his long, lumbering steps. It gives a grateful snort, shaking snow out of it's mane.

They're walking beside each other, their steps slowly falling into the same time. Right, left, right, left, right, left, right, left.

It gives a grunting breath, giant puffs of air blowing from it's long snout. Jack gives it a quick once-over, his brain trying to piece Death together.

Long legs, very, very long legs. As tall as a man is long, a great, sharp snout, with pointed ears pulled against it's skull in the wind. Massive, oval paws that spread with every step. A long, wispy tail. Inky black fur, clean and silky looking, with a mane circled around it's head and neck. Are...are those wings tucked against it's shoulder blades?

What a strange looking creature, Jack thinks as he collapses, his body finally giving out. Fitting, when you think about it – wasn't it the Egyptians that said the god of Death was a Jackal?

He didn't remember Anubis living in the US of A, or walking on all fours, or having fucking wings, but really, it's not his place to judge. Death could be a fucking clown for all he cares, as long as the job is done.

Death spreads it's oily black wings to their fullest length, giving one, two flaps. The snow flies about, a halo of flakes exposing the forest's floor. Grass pokes from the leftover film of white, little blades peering into the blizzard.

It stands over him. It's probably quite the majestic sight, Jack thinks as Death leans down, it's snout rolling him onto his back. Death's eyes are the reddest thing he's ever seen – more red than rubies, then blood. They're crimson, as crimson as the sun setting on summer nights...

'Pa's not gonna believe me' he thinks as he dies, watching as the thing opens it's mouth, a great maw of crystal teeth and black saliva, 'He's gonna think I'm nuts.'

- - -

I want to tell you a story

about a priest that declared war on a god

medusa

#chitter chatter #text #chara: Jack Morrison #fic: medusa #gods au #out of the frying pan #and into the fire #i'm still working on the outline for this fic #i'm trying to go back to my roots #AND BACK TO MY ROOTS I SHALL GO #overwatch fanfic

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minthepin · 7 years ago

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7 days or 150,000 steps. Your choice…

Highlights

By far my favorite thing here was eating at Zellers Bistro. I may or may not have cried at the dinner table. I now realize that I will never amount to that level of happiness again so I can die. Dad said they are ranked in the top 10 restaurants in Budapest. They greeted you with some elderflower champagne (made in house) and said goodbye with some miniature cupcakes. The whole atmosphere was so sweet, like some basement/wine storage place that was last minute turned into a wonderful little restaurant. I had the Hungarian gray beef steak with jacket potato and green peas, and dad had the Cod with black risotto. Needless to say, the steak was better. It just melted in your mouth as tears of joy came running down my face.

The restaurant

Cod and black risotto

This dude keeps following me

Beef and peas, and some of my tears

Carrot cake

Margaret Island comes in close second. I don’t know whether it was just because I was tired of being around people, or whether it was the natural (although hella manicured) quality of the island. But it was just a relaxing day. I followed some self-guided walking tour of the island – there were some Roman ruins, an old convent (for Princess Margaret – her father said if he won the war he would give her to God, so she became a nun at the ripe old age of 9), the Grand Hotel Margitsziget (it used to be the most fashionable hotel in all of Budapest, simply known as “the Grand,” but after WW2 the hotel was modernized), a cute little rose garden and finally, a Japanese garden (waterfalls, streams, bridges and all). The only disappointment was that there was suppose to be a musical fountain, playing old Hungarian tunes, but for some reason, there was neither a fountain nor music. Maybe I liked it so much because it was away from all the traffic and tourists, or maybe it was because I didn’t have to have the stress of trying to keep up with a tour group that I would eventually lose.

Roman ruins

Rose Garden

Water Tour

Princess Margret

The Convent

The Grand Hotel

Japanese Garden

The neither Musical nor Fountain

Japanese Garden

And for my final highlight, it must have been the Opera. Surprising, I know. But actually, they are low key known for their amazing performances. We went to the Hungarian National Opera theater to see “Marios and the Magician” and “Bluebeards Castle,” both written by Hungarian composers. So, although they were in Hungarian and I understood nothing, they had surtitles translating in English. Unfortunately, the theater will be closed down for the next five years for renovation. The singers were so powerful, and the music was just amazing. I have never experienced something so dramatic in person.

The theater, we were on the third floor so a few people got nose bleeds.

It me

The outside of the theater

Daily Activities

Seeing as that was nearly a day worth of activities I figured I should give a slightly more detailed description of my time here (but not too much because this post is already long, so more so pictures than anything).

Day 1

I got in around noon and slept most of the day. Dad and I went out for a sunset walk to see the Parliament, Chain Bridge, and some other things in the nearby vicinity. He works at the Ministry of Agriculture, so he wanted to show me that as well. We then ate a cherry-poppyseed strudel (they are in love with poppyseed things, and strudels so I’m here for it).

The fat policeman statue – rubbing his belly brings you luck

Cherry and Poppyseed Strudel

Imre Nagy Statue, the bridge is made out of Soviet tank pieces (parliament in the back)

The Parliament

View from the Chain Bridge

Day 2

I wanted to get some hardcore tourist shit in still, but dad not so much. We compromised and went on a free alternative walking tour. It was quite interesting – there is a competition every year to design murals on blank walls, it is meant to make the city more beautiful. One of my favorites was the Rubix cube, up close it’s just a bunch of dots, but further away it becomes a cube! The guy who invented it is Hungarian (a lot of things are actually Hungarian – with Greek inspiration of course). There is a quote next to the cube that says, “There is more than one way to solve a problem.” Which is think is super applicable to everyone’s life and honestly, that is a really good thing to keep in mind when doing anything. I was talking to Joe a few weeks ago and something he emphasized in his personal belief is just perspective. Everything needs to get put into perspective in order to try to understand it – maybe it is a person, or a problem, anything really. I just felt like those two went hand in hand and I truly appreciate the beauty of both statements. We saw a lot more street art (attached below I’ll explain it for you, although mom you can just call and I’ll tell you. I know it’s just you reading it…).

Rubix Cube, the quote is “Mindig van megoldás és nem is csak egy!”

This was a Spanish painter, and the man depicted help save a lot of Jewish people during the War. Unfortunately, I cant remember his name.

This was a cute little sticker that is all over Budapest

This is a depiction of Buda and Pest (two separate cities, but they come together because of love). It tries to switch up the stereotypes of both sides of the city.

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA

The theme for this was “all things Hungarian,” Poseidon one has a bunch of little features (like the train), and the girl is suppose to be a classical Hungarian girl.

It’s me and dad trying to take a selfie in front of a fish!

Day 3

Today was Pentecostal, so more or less everything was closed. Since it is a Christian holiday, I decided to do the Jewish legacy walking tour. We walked all over the Jewish Ghetto and there were three Synagogues we saw – the Great, the Modern, and the Orthodox. All of which were beautiful, but none really resembled a traditional Synagogue. The Great Synagogue – biggest on continental Europe (I think) – had a weeping willow tree made out of silver. Each leaf had a name on it. Around it were rocks everywhere, this is how Jewish people signify their love at burials – the rocks last forever to signify that they will not be forgotten. It was so touching and sad, Hungarians have such a rich history with the Jewish folk during WW2. Of about 700,000 before the war there were only 60,000 left when it ended. We saw the mass burial ground and heard about the Shoe Memorial by the Danube (see Day 4). There were some positives though, there was a statue of Raul Wallenberg and Carl Lutz. Both of them played a major role in saving thousands and thousands of Jewish people during the war in Hungary. If you’re reading this, you honestly should take 10 minutes out of your day and read about Hungarian history and World War 2. Currently, the government is trying to deny all responsibilities. They are blaming the Germans for actions the Hungarians took. Of course, there was an influence, but the Hungarians went above and beyond to destroy a culture and a people. The government even built a fountain (Day 4) trying to avoid all blame. Total and complete bullshit.

Raul Wallenberg Memorial

Synagogue – Modern

Synagogue door – it is under reconstruction

Carl Lutz Memorial

I think this is super applicable to a bunch of incredible people I know

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Weeping Willow Tree

Memorable Jewish people

The Great Synagogue

Day 4

Seeing as losing my tour group yesterday was traumatic, I decided to try again. I went on a “Red” tour – i.e. communism. And although it was super interesting and good, I think jet lag was catching up with me making me super out of it (also see Day 5….). First off, I woke up to an e-mail saying I was Unconditionally Accepted to my Master’s program (WOO!). But then I went to lunch at dads work and got an amazing view of the Parliament. The tour was good, I saw the interactive fountain/blame it on the Germans fountain, but I just wasn’t all that into it. So I kinda “lost” them and went to do my own thing. I saw the Shoe Memorial on the Danube and just wandered around Budapest.

The Parliament from the Ministry of Agriculture

The “its the German’s fault” fountain

The Parliament from the back.

Shoe Memorial

The Chain Bridge

View from the Chain Bridge

Chain Bridge

Sticker on the bridge

Day 5

The food was too good the night before, so I’m pretty sure my body needed to calm down a little. Went for a short walk but nothing too extraordinary.

Day 6

Ya girl finally did the whole city tour – I got over to the Buda side! We saw St. Stephens Basilica, the first metro station in continental Europe, the little princess (I took the same pic 4 years later, see my insta min.mosa), the Palace, St. Matthias Church, fisherman’s bastion, and then got lost trying to get back. Those places are really beautiful, but I think you can just see it and be done. I’m not sure I have much to say about these places, overall beautiful but I think it is super touristy. AND in Budapest it is very traditional to go to Baths – water helps cure everything right? So, we went to St. Lucas Baths, which were really kinda small. It isn’t the touristy place (Szechenyi Baths, which I was at 4 years ago), but instead one where locals go. I was a little iffy on this idea because bath with your father doesn’t sound too good…. But It was just a warm swimming pool with a jacuzzi and a swirling current. It was fun to go to, but I wasn’t the biggest fan. My life would have been the same without it. If you ever make it over here, it is definitely something you have to do, just to cross it off your bucket list (which by the way, I have been hungry in Hungary, so #winning).

First metro station

The little princess and I

Views from the Chain Bridge

St. Matthias Church

The Fisherman’s Bastion

Views from the Fisherman’s Bastion

Me getting lost

Still lost, but found a cool window

St. Lucas Baths

Selfie at the Baths, ft. my new camera (thanks dad!)

Parliament at sunset

Day 7

Margret Island, and just putzing around, later we did the Opera!

Onwards…

I really enjoyed my time here, and would recommend it! I think it has a lot of history, beautiful art, and some really neat people. Overall, I can see why people call it the “Paris of Eastern Europe.” I don’t think I would go that far since 98% of the time it smells like pee, but I would say it is really pretty.

On my last day before being in transit to Jordan, I think we are just gonna hang out and maybe take some pictures. If you get a chance, you should come here. Maybe don’t spend a whole week (or maybe do since beer is only a euro…), but if you do be sure to check out some of their wonderful history and culture.

This place really makes you understand your good fortune. At least mine. I really have had a lot of time to think (both because tour groups get lost, and because I sit a lot on my own). I can’t believe how lucky I have been these past four years. Yeah, a lot of shit happened, but honestly, overall, I don’t know if I would have become the person I am today without it. I grew up, I am able to reflect on things, and most importantly I like who I am. If that isn’t something to be celebrated, I am not sure what is.

The first time I was here, I was on my way to becoming a freshman, getting my BS in something, and now I am on my way towards getting my MS in international development. I never thought my college experience would have turned out this way, nor that I would have ended up in a field like this, but holy shit am I lucky. I am so lucky to be pursuing a career that I think I’ll love, I am lucky to have known some amazing people, and I am so lucky to have love, support and good fill every corner of my life. Even if I can’t do that for myself, I know I’ll have someone else who can get a flashlight and blind me with light. So thank you to everyone who has contributed to my last four years, good or bad. You have made me better, stronger and wiser.

7 Days in Budapest 7 days or 150,000 steps. Your choice... Highlights By far my favorite thing here was eating at…

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johnhardinsawyer · 4 years ago

Text

Things Happen

John Sawyer

Bedford Presbyterian Church

8 / 16 / 20

Genesis 45:1-15

Psalm 133

“Things Happen”

One of my favorite bands is called Dawes – D-A-W-E-S. I think they’re just great – great songs, great lyrics, great guitar playing, great singing. A few years ago, they put out a song called “Things Happen.” The chorus of the song goes like this:

Let’s make a list of all the things the world has put you through.

Let’s raise a glass to all the people you’re not speaking to.

I don’t know what else you wanted me to say to you –

Things happen / That’s all they ever do.[1]

Things happen. Some of them are disappointing and difficult. And you and I could rehash all of these things – dwelling on them until they drive us crazy. But, maybe we should just accept that things happen – always have, always will.

This does sound a bit pessimistic, doesn’t it? If this weren’t church, you might hear someone resurrect that old t-shirt or bumper sticker slogan, saying that “something else” happens. But there are things that happen in your life and my life, in the lives of families, and countries, and cultures. History is, of course, the study of one thing right after another.[2] Things happen. And, if we were to make a list of all of them, it would be a mighty long list. On this list, we would, most definitely, find moments of great good, and progress, and causes to celebrate. But not everything on our list would be good.

In looking at today’s story from the Book of Genesis, I imagine that Joseph has a pretty long list of not-so-good things that have happened to him. The world has, after all, put him through a lot. And if, as the song says, Joseph were to raise a glass to all the people he’s not speaking to, he would be holding the glass up for a long time, trying to name them all, specifically, his ten older brothers: Reuben, Simeon, Levi, Judah, Issachar, Zebulun, Gad, Asher, Dan, and Napthali. When we last saw Joseph, in last week’s scripture reading and sermon, he was being led away in chains – sold into slavery by these jealous older brothers.[3] Joseph is all alone, cut off from his family.

Now, to get from this very low point in Joseph’s life to where we find him in today’s reading would make for a very long sermon. In terms of things happening, a lot happens, here. But, if we were to just to hit the highlights, Joseph goes from being the favored son with a fancy coat to a slave in chains, and from being the favored slave in the house of a powerful man in Egypt to a prisoner who interprets dreams, and from being a prisoner who interprets the dreams of the Pharaoh – the king – to becoming the favored governor of the whole kingdom, managing all of the food distribution for the kingdom during a time of famine.[4] That’s quite a dramatic story arc for one character – from lowly slave to second-in-command of the kingdom!

But there is still more to the story. You see, when the famine begins, nobody is able to grow crops in Egypt or in the region surrounding Egypt. Changes in climate have no respect for the borders of countries, after all. Meanwhile, back in the land of Canaan, Joseph’s brothers are trying to eke out an existence with little to no food for their family or their flocks. They do hear, however, that there is food that can be bought down in Egypt. Egypt is doing just fine – food-wise – thanks to Joseph and the God to which Joseph prays. You see, Joseph encouraged the Pharaoh to store up as much as possible before the famine began.

So, Egypt is where Joseph’s ten older brothers go. They do leave their littlest brother, Benjamin – the youngest (twelfth) brother in the family – back home, though. Benjamin is Joseph’s little brother – his only full-blooded brother. They make their way down to Egypt and are ushered into a grand room where a very grand man sits in a very grand chair. They don’t know who this guy is, but he is clearly important. And, when they ask him – through an interpreter – if they can buy some food, he starts peppering them with questions, giving them a lot of grief – asking them about where they are from, how many brothers they have in their family, and whether or not they are spies. At one point, he even has them thrown in jail. After the third night behind bars, the brothers are released to take food home but one of them must be left behind in Egypt until they bring back their youngest brother – Benjamin. If they don’t do this, they will die. When they hear this, they start talking amongst themselves, saying,

“Now we’re paying for what we did to our brother [Joseph] – we saw how terrified he was when he was begging us for mercy. We wouldn’t listen to him and now we’re the ones in trouble.”[5] “Things happen, and now they’re happening to us!”

Little do they know that their little brother Joseph is hearing their every word. Because the very grand man in front of them is the very brother that they sold so long ago. They just don’t recognize him.

But, the big, dramatic, reveal doesn’t happen quite yet. In the end, Joseph’s brothers come back to Egypt with Benjamin and we find ourselves at today’s reading. All of the brothers are gathered together in Joseph’s big and grand house. They still don’t know that their long-lost brother, Joseph, is right there in front of them.

What would you do if the people who had ruined your life were standing right in front of you and you had the power of life and death over them? Yes, Joseph has sent his brothers to jail for a few nights, but he has also been incredibly generous to them – sending them home – alive – loaded down with food. But now that they are back in his presence, he is unable to contain himself anymore.

Out of all the things he could do, today’s scripture reading tells us that Joseph begins to weep. His long list of all that the world has put him through – all that his brothers have put him through, all those years of hurt, and hardship, and painful memories that he has had to keep to himself come pouring out in huge, wracking, sobs that can be heard out in the street and next door at the palace of the king. “I am Joseph,” he tells his eleven astonished brothers, when he’s finally able to catch his breath. (Genesis 45:3)

Things happen – that’s all they ever do. But there are some things that happen – events so big and dramatic that reverberate through history. . . wars, and kingdoms, and empires, and elections. There are also things that happen on a much smaller – but no less dramatic, because they are personal – scale events that reverberate through families and individual lives. Maybe it’s a birth, maybe it’s a death, maybe it’s a big move, maybe it’s the loss of a job, or the time your brothers threw you in a pit and then sold you to some Ishmaelite merchants heading down to Egypt, and life as you know it is forever changed.

Things happen, that’s all they ever do. But the story of Joseph gives us a glimpse into what to do, and who to be, and how to interpret things when they do happen. In the end, this is what matters most.

Somehow, instead of lashing out or punishing those who hurt him so long ago, Joseph finds a way to live with them – even love them. At the end of today’s story, we see Joseph kissing them, and weeping on them, and talking with them – making plans for all of them to move the whole family – even their elderly dad – back down to Egypt, where he will provide for all of them. Why does he do this? Why is he so gracious?

Difficult things have happened to Joseph, but he somehow sees something Holy at work through all of it. He tells his brothers, “. . . and now do not be distressed or angry with yourselves, because you sold me here; for God sent me before you to preserve life” (45:5) A few chapters later, he tells them, “Even though you intended to do harm to me, God intended it for good, in order to preserve a numerous people as God is doing today.” (50:20)

What are we to make of this? Is Joseph, with some kind of 20/20 Holy hindsight, really saying that all of it happened the way it happened because God caused it all? Could he really see God’s providential fingerprints all over his own difficult story? Things do happen, but where is God in all of it? Sometimes, it’s hard to tell, especially when we’re in the thick of things.

What I do know is that while God’s methods are often difficult to understand in the moment, God’s holy purpose – at work for good in the world – undergirds all of life, even when life is hard. And we, like Joseph, often only realize this after-the-fact.

If you were to think of your own life and what has brought you to this very moment, I wonder if and where you might be able to spot God’s fingerprints on your own life’s story – however faint those fingerprints might be. Yes, things happen – that’s all they ever do – but at the heart of all of these things – at the heart of your life and mine – I believe that the Holy Spirit is doing the work, of bringing some light, and grace, and hope, and love, and healing along the way.

In Joseph’s case, God leads him and his brothers back together, again. Is it uncomfortable? Are there tears? Is there regret and worry? Yes, to all the above! But there is also healing and reconciliation – key parts of God’s holy purpose for all of us. To quote another song by Dawes,

I wanna sit with my enemies

And say we should have done this sooner

While I look them in the face /

Maybe that would crack the case.[6]

Maybe if we could see that is God leading us – and all of creation – toward one another with healing and reconciliation and love in our hearts and on our lips, we would crack the case of some of the brokenness in this world, and say “We should have done this sooner.”

Things happen – that’s all they ever do – but somehow, God is at work for good through all the things that do happen. Things happen – that’s all they ever do. But as things happen, so does God. And all God ever is is full of love and mercy, forgiveness and healing for you and for me and for all the world. We find this to be true in the welcoming waters of baptism, in the strengthening power of bread and cup – body and blood – in signs of peace, and hope, and reconciliation, and healing, and wholeness that surround us on all sides even in hard times.

Years from now, when you tell the story of what happened to you and your family, and your community and church, and our nation, and the world, in the great Covid-19 Pandemic what will you say about God? Where will you say that you saw God at work?

Things happen. That’s all they ever do. But the Holy happens, too. God always has and always will. May God give us eyes and ears for seeing and hearing, minds and hearts for knowing and loving, and bodies and spirits for serving, and forgiving, and healing.

In the name of the Father, and the Son, and the Holy Spirit. Amen.

--------

[1] Taylor Goldsmith, Dawes. “Things Happen.” All Your Favorite Bands. 2015.

[2] Paraphrase from Arnold J. Toynbee (among others) – https://en.wikiquote.org/wiki/Arnold_J._Toynbee.

[3] See Genesis 37, as well as https://johnhardinsawyer.tumblr.com/post/625976232170946560/let-us-go-unto.

[4] See Genesis 39-41.

[5] Eugene Peterson, The Message – Numbered Edition (Colorado Springs: NAV Press, 2002) 69. Genesis 42:21.

[6] Taylor Goldsmith, Dawes, “Crack the Case.” Passwords, 2018.

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iges · 6 years ago

Text

Journal Wrap-Up 2018

Jan

I wonder why I doubt myself, feel so small when my potential is so tall

I wonder why I miss people, but still don't pick up the phone to call

Duhet te njohesh shpirtin e njeriut,qe mund ti admirosh fytyren

What do you mourn first? That which you were meant to become, or the many lives you've lived and died on your way to becoming who you are?

I got a lot on my mind / not enough hours to shed / not enough trust to believe, not enough feeling to care / I'm feeling numb to the world so I been ignoring instead

Your own people be laughing when you on ya positive shit

"you're a poet?"

· "something like that. I like to play with words to create experiences"

"it's gonna take a long ass time or a hell of a miracle for me to take someone seriously again. Let alone even consider a relationship."

Living my life like it's golden

Inspiration is everywhere. But it has to find you working

Si qiri po me tretet jeta

When all external affiliations and descriptions are erased; when self-projected facades are defaced; when you take off all the class rings, bracelets and school branded sweaters, who the hell are you?

I can't wait to get out of this country and explore the world. It's almost about damn time I get out of here

Can I get a kiss? And can you make it last forever? I said I'm bout to go to war. And I don't know if imma see you again

So free- don't flee from me

You make this shit feel like summertime

Day is yours beautiful. Go remind the earth why it loves you

The world has said so much to me and I just wanna give it right back to em

Lovin life above a reason

Got expensive energy...can’t afford to give it to everybody

Have you fallen in love with me yet? / you should for a good two weeks / two weeks is best for lovers

Who is healed?

Who is housed?

Who is silent?

Who speaks?

How many generations did it take to become feral?

I know what it’s like to be hardened by the world and all the shit that happens to you. and that’s why I choose softness everyday (or at least try to)

Move me

Family. community. Calm unity.

Love is dope but I’m careful where I place mine now

That dope ass beat in your heart? Vibe to it

The words might escape us, but it is the knowing that matters. It is the knowing that creates the experience.

“Alicia keys aura reminds me of you”

I flower and don’t apologize

Every piece I create, creates me. I create to create myself.

It's very important you take cues from yourself. It is such a wild world full of chaos and chance and if you can see that this is the best part of it, that it's open ended and unscripted, that your fate is your whim, then the vibe hits you and life is the vibe. Often you have to become what you need, and very often the world will punch you in the mouth. You spit out whatever blood may come, you let your eyes give off their wild crazy, and you make yourself into a bolt of lightning. I think if life has fucked with you, I think you get what I mean

I am wayward careening, losing myself in the next next next, little more than a reactive engine, needing to be touched, needing hot exhale on my neck, needing, everything. Would a fight, would words repented, would a fear of violence, of escape, of abandonment, would an action incapable but accomplished, something to tear the heart through the night. I remain and waste and weather and realize why an organism became a predator.

· I place compassion in a bowl and set it aside. I crucify the pity I fill for myself and as I resurrect I realize I no longer know you. I do as you and shrug my shoulders and it is all there is to do.

Turn off your phone before you start making things

People will tell you you’re weird your whole life till they see you doing your own thing or better than them

Feb

Only allowing another body to interrupt long enough for our limbs to tangle like weeds up the side of a brick house, reaching for something impossible

Most people I know cannot sleep until they crawl themselves through someone else's hollow.

There are nights when I wish we were all still children, but then again, I suppose we may be or at least there is no other way to explain how we make every doorway our own. The way we stain ourselves and anything else that moves. The way we scream into the dark like a siren & the weeping, yet another thing we never mention in the morning.

Months later, I fell in love with a coast where my phone calls were no longer currency

Let the n-word spill out from behind the wrong tongue and paint the entire room a new shade of trouble

· Doesn't understand how a word can hang in the air and multiply twice its weight before it ever comes down

· I watch as the air above us gets thick and becomes an anvil of smoke

· It must be nice to wrap your tongue around all of the words in that song without also asking to bleed out on a sidewalk - the only traces of your body be the traces of chalk on the sidewalk

A new sharp and boundless city between us forever, or sometimes multiple

I don’t sleep like I used to under this city's moon. I never got used to eating alone out there and I instead got used to hunger. how small I've become because of these things. I forgot how to talk about distance out loud

“ya know I knew there was something worth admiring about you. you keep proving me right every day”

If you get tired, learn to rest not to quit

You gotta train your mind to be stronger than your emotions or else you'll lose yourself every time.

A lot of people spend time worrying about all the things that could go wrong. I don't think about those things. Where you place your attention grows. I focus on my vision and understand that just because things don't go according to plan doesn't mean that they're going wrong. The universe is collaborative, we aren't in full control. Focus on what you want in your wildest imagination and let it come into being. I'm recontextualizing anxiety as excitement. Depression is just when I need to modulate my mood. Sometimes it's just time to sleep all day. Rest and dreams are as important as the work. It's ok to feel low. It's ok to be confused. You move and breathe through it.

It's easy to find your truth in retrospect. What's hard is to find your truth in the moment

Feeling small again as I leave the city. This restless city…is part of why I'm so restless. Part of the grind is embedded in my bones the other parts are cultivated by this city. When I go elsewhere for too long, my soul becomes more restless than ever.

· But it is ok to feel small at times. Reminds us of how grand we are afterwards. Refer back to yesterday's entry. Recontextualizing the emotions I feel so I can be more comfortable with feeling them.

Sometimes people will come into your life because they're attracted to your energy but they'll misuse it for their own healing. Let that go.

Maybe you won’t get attached to me if I get lucky

You’re my golden girl/ the sun has been kind to you

and this body, this skin, this lineage, how can i wear them with honor? how can i find peace in them?

how do i carry on when it seems there are more of them than there are of me? those folks who do not even think of tenderness, do not even care to know their souls?

to stretch past our current realities toward a future we deserve. to stretch past our own shit in order to build the collective we need.

Can you dig it?

I feel like I asked god for it and got back "are you sure? Ok. Just know that everyone can't go."

· So I'm watching that. And it is tough. But I'm too deep in and I can do so much good.

· It's lonely out here but beautiful.

Everyone who has told me they loved me has meant something different

March

Officially going to south Africa in the fall

Fullness is risky business

Were you looking for someone? As I watched you go? I’m mad because I don’t know what you used me for

Self-improvement is the best dating advice

My single years have been the most emotionally rich, spiritually uplifting moments of my life. It is in these moments of solitude that the self is discovered and furthered.

Creating beauty and opportunity

I love hard but I don’t give a fuck even harder

I might be too great alone. Solitude is the wave

Someone said the whole point of living is to age. I haven’t been the same since

My dreams return to me. Like seeds shifting in the dirt. I could have a joy unlimited. Imagine that. Imagine that there is a warmth deep enough in the earth to withstand a few chilly seasons of fear. Imagine you blooming anyway. Despite | in spite. Inspire. It's the kinda thing that makes your muscles loosen. Your colors richen. Spring forward.

I love low lighting and low voices and a low moon. I wish love was easier to give- wish it came with settings. I would turn you on, so that you illuminated us both.

She remembered who she was and the whole game changed.

I guess you wake up one day and decide to be strong

Writing to sunsets while on the road. I think this is the way my life is supposed to go

It’s funny how overemotional encounters render me emotionless

Listening to canal st and thinking back to blasting this while I came down from my trip with rumeer this summer. Walked him to the train and then walked through the city with the homies. Walked like a pack blasting music and just talking some real shit. It was a day of so many emotions, so many tears- of sadness for lack of understanding, of happiness for finally making my dreams come true, of laughter for being able to be stupid together. And a night full of raw thoughts. I felt so at one and at peace with myself. I knew myself better at that point in my life than I have ever known myself before, than I know myself now. I can't wait for life to feel that way again.

Don’t rush yourself, but apply pressure

As artists, we have to keep reinventing ourselves; we can't ride the same wave forever, for, that's how you drown

They always ask "where are you now?" in a way that insinuated there were only two places on earth one could be: new york and somewhere ridiculous

April

i keep waiting to receive you. i keep wanting, past what's warranted. i keep asking and opening. i keep giving you an entrance. why tho?

some glimmer of a thing. potential, hope, lust- all shimmer in the dark. i spotted you. to my detriment maybe. you are decadent maybe.

i'm making you up as i go because you won't come close enough to show me the truth. and because my truth feels better. and because i keep wanting a reason to want you.

there is no reason why this should end well. but we hang around just in case. i've got to protect myself just in case.

suicidal thoughts happen on sunny saturday afternoons right alongside the sprout of pink flowers. in a single sigh of relief, there is the joy of being alive for another spring, and there is the exhaustion of having survived another winter. wanting to quit. wanting to stay. pendulum swings. i can't imagine what it's like to not feel both, feel everything, in constant oscillation.

i moved to america in what felt like the middle of a sentence. childhood morphed into something unfamiliar, something of a memory, which isn't the same as the thing itself.

some version of me thought it would be romantic if we could connect off the strength of who we were when we were 11.

it didn't turn out so well or last very long. whatever personality she might have had, she drowned out with drugs and hennessy. and it's strange the way the paths you take can age you. from juice boxes to drugs and sex and a lot of smoke and fog to clog the memories. it does something to you.

my preferred style of loving is from a distance...like the sun. it's enough for me that someone cna stand in my warmth and stand in their own truth at the same itme. it's enough for me to be a flame, a shining light, a star. except for when i'd rather be touched.

the real [quest]ion is: how do i create and embody a life i enjoy? what is my power? what happens when i add more courage? let's keep moving to find out.

the whole point of abundance is

to have enough and be enough

so you don't have to build it all at once

pardon my bohemian ways

i know i act like i be stuck in a bohemian daze

you said you love me, so don't rush me

love is patient and now you gotta trust me

buffering, creativity suffering

when you bustlin' hustlin' for the numbers and

you missed the journey if you climbed too fast

traveler, never falling victim to these calendars

they say greatness gets better with time

so why expedite my prime?

see i'm just a lilac tied to the earth

exuding the fragrance of life and birth

so respect my photosynthesis

my petals, my stems, full of nourishing flow

you thought this was a love song, but no

i just need you to let me grow.

life is a fleeting thing--and a fluid thing. i am a wave dissolving against the shore--then rewinding. it's not very interesting to some, but it's real. to me, it's fascinating. it does fill the time with something. my unimportance is shimmering under the sun until it becomes it's own beam of light, until i become aware of my light and take flight.

the words don't always come because sometimes there are none. not for what i want to say. not for where i stay. but are to be found in the spaces i need to go.

and so this is how i become a fleeting thing--and a fluid thing. my life takes shape based on who i am and who i become. so i'm living this life like it's my only one.

What I am trying to say is: I am trying to travel more lightly these days

i have to live in a numberless now. do i feel alive? have i danced enough? written enough? created enough today? or any other day? will my tired heart renew its strength again? these questions don't care what month it is. when i go to answer them, that is how my life evolves. there is no schedule, no score, no scale that will accurately reflect the tale of my life.

it is happening now. tune in now or you'll be lost in the next episode.

self pity is just cloud cover. it is defense mechanism against difficulty.

there's no way out of carrying the weight of your own life. and that shit is humbling. because the consequences are impartial to both innoncence and ignorance. whether we know better or not, whether accidental or on purpose, if a bone breaks, it breaks. we can spend an eternity rationalizing the causes, but the effects are here now, and the bone is still broken. they demand to be dealt with.

most days i feel like everything that could be said has been said. i write anyway.

trauma attaches to our genes and our choices, and we pass these things on to the next installment of living beings. why is it so hard to fathom that everything is connected, and that the good we do today matters? it matters to our ancestors, our present peers, and our successors... that we heal, we love, and we create. and we do this with the wilderness and joy we were born to do it with. this is a wounded place we are living in. i wish to tend to it already

when my lungs ebb and release the air, the shore of my soul comes into form. time recedes, reveals the miracle of being born anew each morning. heaven is the reachable pulsating heart in each of us.

how do we go about living our days there?

maybe i keep my distance because the best way to enjoy something is to not bother it.

the sun loves us from a distance. maybe that's where i get it from. getting closer changes everything. it changes your skin entire.

I feel as though I am sunshine with a pulse

i have been trying to gather my thoughts, but they don't want to be gathered. they want to roam wildly.

i am thinking of you and how you could be anyone and how i've written your poem already under another title and another face.

i just can't go back to a place where everything in life is centered around romantic love. there is so much more important love to me now. a love poem is never just about a person anymore, it's about a person, myself, our dreams, and everything in between that makes us free. besides, what is a love poem, but a pair of wings?

emptiness is an opportunity. to fill, to fly

i wanna know why we all aren't laughing, why our mouths aren't all prepared to swallow the moonlight

i am so warm and willing. it's like glowing from my superpower. it's like knowing what star i came from.

what are my essential needs?

what has to be met in order to connect?

what boundaries can i unfasten to let more freedom in?

language is a constant movement in my body--as the lungs, the heart, and the blood. always, there is a charge to communicate. it is the original addiction. i learned early the world is molded by storytellers. i discovered the sentience of a sentence and couldn't return to unfeeling. the call to express is as fluid as a reflex. as natural. as eternal.

at the end of the day, my voice is an invitation to my loneliness. language brings fellowship to my solitude--makes compelling the insignificant. it is a never present temptation. to speak and feel and build. it is an opening.

sometimes i just like the feeling of not being home. i enjoy the fog and flow between two places. perhaps i'm going nowhere slowly. but to enjoy the relief of being back in familiar territory, you must leave every once in a while to soften yourself against the unknown.

"how do you know me so well?"

"because i know myself"

i've been writing about love since i was a child. it was always the loose thread in the tapestry. one tug and you could watch the whole thing unravel. i was 11 when i noticed this subtle energy holding everything together. didn't quite know what to call it back then. but i found myself in a constant flirtation with whatever came close.

poetry is the matter of twirling that thread around my finger, sensing the collective pull as love touches everything. colors are saturated by it. music erupts from it. dreams are made bold because of it. sometimes i will call it by other names:

summer, water, desire, energy, you.

words are for linking them all together, naming the constellations, and finding our way in the dark. words were born from our insatiable need to connect and from the allure of cause and effect. i'm glad for it.

my favorite space to be is here...because i know you'll love me back from the otehr end of the string. one tug and we can watch the whole thing unravel, revealing the raw nakedness underneath.

i've been writing about you since before i knew you by your name.

i think there's this sweet spot you find when you're discovering yourself that is both private and sincere. you are not obligated to share it. it is a vibe you register as peace or loneliness with a hint of fire and warmth. a heart of sorts. perhaps the heart itself. you are alive and complete, as is. sure, over time, you will glow and erode and merge with others, but there will always be your center. your zero. your infinite. the gift you take when you leave your mother and discover singularity, whether that mother is a person or a country. you take not of it like hearing the muffled baseline of a familiar song in the distance that carries the rhythm like something of a home. your song. deep down, you are your own. i think this is the love i've been trying to remember and re-discover. she saves me in the end. i've always had quite a strong sweet tooth.

One day I’ll wake up and it won’t be on the battlefield

"eating salmon with pumpkin rice and thinking about how many times i've written my existence into reality"

most people forget what could change another life once changed theirs

im sitting in my room crying over my progress report from kindergarten because i've literally always been like this. sometimes i forget. but i won't waiver because i can't waiver. i promise to keep holding it down till i'm in the ground. peace.

remember that spirit bomb of a book i put out? lol. what happened to that?

yo peace to everyone who understands this shit isn't theoretical

it's always the motherfuckas with no magic tryna tell you what to do with yours

inspiration as a force but not with force

i'm a different soul now than when you first knew me. it's not the same shy timid girl you met. i now know myself, i know what i want from life, and i know my journey. and i am not willing to let anyone fuck with that. so you're either with me or not.

I am so grateful for this passion. For this creativity. For this fire burning within me

I don’t know how to explain war language to those who have never had to speak it

a year of subtle dopeness. it was no accident that i was off campus during my birthday. it was no accident that it was with a small group of good company. it was no accident that i had a great night at the party regardless of those around me. it is no accident that i don't let anybody fuck with my energy lately, even while mercury was in retrograde. it is no accident that i feel like i am floating. though life may feel like a series of coincidences, i have come to realize that i have learned how to be very intentional with my energy and actions in order to create the vibe i want for my life. and i have come to be so thankful for that. it is no accident that i am where i am today. i have brought myself here, willingly, intentionally. love and support has helped carry me here. of myself and others. it is no accident that i feel at home wherever i go these days; that i can up and leave constantly and come back and settle in whenever needed. while still floating. i have learned to make a home of this body and soul. i am learning how to build peace from it. i lay foundations, willingly, and intentionally. with love and support. i didn't just happen here; i put myself here because i wanted to be here (no matter how hard it may be to believe or remember sometimes). i am grateful for this power and awareness. continuing to vibe to the dope beat in my heart; continuing to build my song; continuing to let the rhythm (of love and support) carry me wherever i need to go; continuing to sing it wherever i go.

Don’t quit your groovy shit

seeking the sun

"you've got such a great heart yo. mad generous and loving"

"now i do. took a while"

Reminder: “if you wanna fly, gotta give up the shit that weighs you down”

writing is a stimulant. where the blood goes, the words flow, and heat rises to the surface. a story is what we tell when we are most free.

to execute a vision, you have to trust the movement.

certain things you just can't rush.

namely, Growth.

I am releasing everything.

i think i displayed, often, that i cared about your well-being. enough to warrant, at minimum, a little transparency on your end. something, anything, a single word. but distance? silence? why that? why didn't i deserve a reason? i'll live, but it does sting a bit.

set your anger down and think about who's in control.

i am a lover, with or without a lover.

May

and every day, the world will drag you by the hand, yelling "this is important! and this is important! and this is important! you need to worry about this! and this! and this!" and each day, it's up to you to yank your hand back, put it on your heart and say "no. this is what's important" -Iain Thomas

i want myself unconditionally. i want my own love. with everybody else, there are requisites. fuck that.

to write myself in and out of moods.

to create new energy for myself.

this is the move.

Belonged | Beloved

against the blue of the sky, this tree was a peacock in a past life.

There’s not enough room nor time for anger. It’s time to forgive us both.

how much time does it take to be a real writer?

what does it take to be a real writer?

what does it take to call yourself all that you are?

i pull sativa smoke into my lungs and feel my muscles loosen

Notice Me- Migos

as i find my limits stretched, i'm understanding that i'm not in the position to ask for more. my inventory is capped. the things that are already here want to be noticed. and it's about time i notice them. you create space for wealth by giving thanks and taking care of what is already there. i stand in my space and register my blessings: running water, a community to love, unread books, muscles to temper, rage to soften, love to give, my work cut out for me. my advantages eclipse my deprival. society would rather have me believe that i don't have enough any day. it would rather me reduce myself to greed where no life can be sustained. i have plenty i could stand to appreciate more if i know what's good for me. and i am learning what is good.

i realize now how i always considered babson a temporary destination, always thought of it as a visit. and because i said that before i even got here, i have been treating it as such ever since. when i lost sight of it, when i tried to fully immerse myself, i got lost in it and lost myself in it. it is okay to acknowledge that there are some spaces you are just a visitor to, that you can never truly belong there. even if these are the spaces you are supposed to call home. home is not a place that i call, home is a place that i feel called to.

i always want to get straight to the heart of things.

my spirit stayed behind to find the sun.

she has found it and is now catching up to me.

rather than abandonment, i feel nourishment.

a sentiment known since we felt the shadows of our parents for the first time.

what am i not tryna deal with right now?

i just be lookin forever eternally

lately i've been questioining a lot. most people are fake supportive, and i no longer have energy to give outside of my craft

last night was a night of affirmations. everything came full circle. my purpose was affirmed, my character was affirmed, my role here was affirmed, and now it's time to go the fuck off.

there is a lot of tenderness in my life when i know where to find it and when i choose to seek it out. choice is what this is all about. gratitude is the fuel.

summer in my soul

i can't do it, not because i'm incapable. because it's not part of my purpose

looks can be deceiving, words can be misleading, i see blood on my shirt but i'm not the one bleeding

realizing and recontextualizing.

i trust myself so much. i trust my emotions. i trust my thoughts. i trust my body. no one can tell me who i am.

collecting and connecting

i'm not seeking anyone to fill anymore emptiness. it turns out i never needed that. what i've always craved are simply opportunities to be my most authentic self. love is bigger than two people but can also be as small as one. love is having a place in the world and in yourself. love is wanting a future. love is the courage to keep going. love is a lot more. sometimes a person is not the answer. for me, it seldom ever is. sometimes, most times it is movement. sometimes, it is rain, money, the right song, an adventure. sometimes it is sleep. sometimes it is drug store candy and a day in full of wet windows and kisses. sometimes it is the right album and a hike and a mountain view. all this estate for my mind to run. but a lot of the poems suggest that you have to wait for someone to give you a chance to be somebody. that's what i am here for. to shift the notion that you ever need anybody to give you the permission or opportunity or freedom to become all that you ever are on your own. you gotta know what it is like to feel wanted. i know what it's like and it's beautiful. but the world is still burning. but it feels most beautiful when you are wanted by and for yourself. there is opportunity/freedom in emptiness. to fill. to fly. i am not seeking anyone anymore because this emptiness is not for filling. i’m flying baby. you are welcome to dance with me in this expanding space. but i don't expect you to have the answers, and i pose the same request to you. more than anything, i just want to be myself, in myself, with myself.

fuck all that other noise.

people here are so concerned with looking busy that they're never actually doing anything.

how can you ever go wrong with the girls who call earth home

everybody else is 2's and 3's. you're the 1. i love you.

i do possess the desire to be understood on the level that touches my poetry, sensitivity, and the playful melancholy from which my rebellious love sprouts. but because i know myself where it counts, i don't beg for it elsewhere. there is no urgency. few people have met me in that soft space of feeling, laughing, and moving slowly. i resented that at first. but it's not a big deal now. alone is how i get to be unglamorous on my own terms.

i write more than i talk. i like to walk along the beach and listen, walk the city streets and listen. i enjoy giving because wanting takes me out of my element. i don't always know how to explain that to my friends when they call and i don't answer. but if you came to my door, i'd let you in.

for the sake of compassion, a lot can be simplified. every now and then you want somebody to talk to, and maybe you wouldnt mind fucking them, if they didn't mind it. is it so paramount that we make it A Thing? maybe you only wanna talk or listen or be around, but you don't wanna overstay your welcome. maybe you get lucky and find everything in one person. maybe you find one thing among many, right when you need it. maybe you are all you need, sometimes. i think we ask a lot of each other before we know any better. i feel like we get too high up and too fast, and now that we need to climb down, we are more afraid than ever. we shouldn't be afraid. we were searching for a friend. we succeeded. we don't need to complicate that.

tired. what's next? i'm suffering. what's next? i'm shedding. what's next? i'm not holding on tightly to anything anymore. or maybe ever again.

both patient and relentless, this love does not allow me to remain a victim. it lifts and dares me with the same strength of limb- an embrace that is forgiving and urgent. get up, it implores. pushing tenderly. refusing pity. and this is novel, alarming, beyond denial. this love won't let me proceed unchanging, just as the softness of hands shaping clay does not detract from their calculated strokes. it touches me purposefully deep down in my sorrow, demanding its purge. confident in my ability to harvest light. i am anxious within it, yet still assured..that this is as it should be- ruthlessly constructive.

if you stopped loving me, would you be brave enough to tell me?

when i was lonely, i ran to love to cure it. i am not lonely now, and that is its own affliction.

sometimes i just don't want to be seen. i imagine living outside the context of my body like a smokescreen. is it such a terrible idea to do things in increments? i wish i could disappear for months at a time without offending anyone. like the bears do. it's not always about you. i wish i was as light as air.

but i am fire. and i must be around so we can stay warm.

the world is allowed to be temperamental, yet we aren't. how come? aren't we of this world? aren't we allowed our seasons?

but fire has no season, my dear.

"just to hear it in your words"

· i love how you ask me the things you already know just to be able to hear it in my own words

you make my desire pure

croque is my hub of solitude, intimacy, and creativity. it is one of the few places i am most intimate with myself and my work always. and by work i mean creativity, which has always been the work of my heart.

nomadic in spirit, grounded in character, free in energy.

what an incredible experience to become who i've always wanted to be. so liberating, so humbling, so powerful, so beautiful.

this really incredibly dope trippy thing in my life has been happening lately where everyone i know, in different circles are all going through similar things. and it's so cool because as they all talk to me about it, it almost feels like they're having conversations with each other. and all my circles are shifting into venn diagrams and life has never been more interesting.

June

as a child i've always been to myself because i somehow picked up the ability to make myself happy. that's why detachment is easy for me. i know that i'm not the easiest person to like. i've always treated myself like the i'm the privelege and the priveleged. people have expressed dissatisfaction with my way of thinking but it's really not an egotistical mentality. in order for me to believe that i'm the privelege it's because i want to be that. i work hard at being that. i'm always working on myself and my energy. i'm always trying to improve so i can be a benefit to those around me. i'm the privilege because i want to be the best friend, i want to be the one you need. i want to be the one you rely on. the reason i want to be that way is exactly why i choose to treat myself as the privelege. i will continue to do so because i'm a firm believer that my energy will gravitate towards similar energy.

if i told you i love you but do not want you, would you understand the gift this is, the freedom, the open lane, the life without expectations, which become contracts, and then we employees to each other, checking off to-do lists, holding meetings, taking surveys, sitting and stewing instead of living. i have a notion that love is not a necessity and that this sanctuary and steeple idea is a means to hamstring a wild flight through existence. i love you. i do not stay. humans do not mate for life. they barely know themselves. they forget everything. i am seeking power over my memory, with you by my side, for as long as we choose. i am drifting away. it does not make me good or evil. i am not a scoundrel. i am not salvation. we had life together. it ended. it ends.

If you don’t get it off your chest, you’ll never be able to breathe

i think this is the course of my life. i know what i want. my soul knows where it wants and needs to go and it steers me there through manifestation. from thoughts to words to existence. this is the way our lives form. we must choose to shape them.

don't explain your philosophy. embody it.

i live in another dimension and i do not have time for things that have no soul.

feed my soul or get lost.

go where you feel the most alive.

"even if you feel lost, everybody feels fucking lost. in so many ways.

the mind is what you gotta train the most before anything

-coffee shop overheard

if i had a nickel for the times i was absent minded i forget to hit your line

i was minding mine and you just want to see me shine

i was minding mine i meant to mend and make amends

it is incredible how much love is in the world, awaiting me. i don't know why it's happening now- why i feel the flowers bursting from the valleys in my heart. perhaps they've had enough rain.

the sun cuts right to the chase. i walk to the store that's farther away just to enjoy it longer. i play the same song four times over. the wind is in my lashes. my eyes reflect the honey of the bees. i mean..love turns up in every blade of grass when your mind is open. that's what i'm getting at here.

i'm giddy because you don't realize the weight of worrying until you drop everything and breathe. i can do anything i want to, and that is the hill worth climbing on. love is knowing that i can succeed. peace & joy is the ultimate success. you have to choose which thoughts to believe.

everything has its own place and pace. and i really like this view. at times, my humanity rushes in towards me. a resurgence of recognition.

i am a limb on the branch. i am a member of the tribe. ours is a life of seasons.

i've got an entire lineage of roots that hold me down and rely on me to lift them up, to keep this growth part of who we are. there is so much love to harvest here. and so i must keep moving towards the sun. i am grateful for all of it. for everything that has built me for all this movement and a spirit that never strays nor stays for too long.

here comes peace.

i am not here to compete for anything.

falling out of love doesn't make me an enemy.

my humanity doesn't make me an enemy

perhaps nothing is harder than telling the truth

but nothing is more free.

my wings are here.

i am vibrating love

i walk in love, never fall in it. might get tripped up in it once in a while, but it is an accessory to my journey rather than a destinaton.

[feeling my feelings]

I’m opening up all the channels to love that have been clogged by circumstance

I’m laughing right now because it occurred to me that I can love myself through it all and that’s a fucking blessing

Reflections and rewards

I have unlimited potential. Joy- abundant. What’s stopping me?

Present at where we are

your eagerness to create without hesitation is inspiring.

the difference with you is that nothing gets in the way of your creativity. you live seamlessly. you grow spiritually & it all makes sense. there is so much truth to your patience.

you show others that no matter how long it takes to create something, your work can be timeless

I’m only out here just tryna impress myself now

I might love you more than you love yourself. And that might scare you

Visible light. That is what you are

water does not resist. water flows. when you plunge your hand into it, all you feel is caress. water is not a solid wall, it will not stop you. but water always goes where it wants to go, and nothing in the end can stand against it. water is patient. drippng water wears away a stone. remember that, my child. remember you are half water. if you can't go though an obstacle, go around it. water does.

but his pride is bigger than his heart will ever be. so the feelings remain silent.

"you shine like a river when the sun catches its eye during the sunset"

nobody cares. work harder.

I’m only at 37%

they don't like you they like a version of you and when you aint that version its the end of the world

hey you,

when did you begin to show yourself love?

what's in front of you?

what are you trying to see?

what are you hoping is on the other side?

what do you believe in?

what are ten things you care about?

what does the world need to know?

what are you getting out from?

what are you leaving behind?

he say nothing

i say nothing

but i love you

sometimes, we are both looking for a way out

some days, the exits look a lot like each other

i know i know i know

we repeat like broken vinyls

if i don't leave now and go on my path i might (will) get stuck

i refine my falling outs. i improve the ways i break. i better course my disasters to run into the heart and not the toes. (this way i don't stumble over my mistakes. take them to heart so this way the lesson is learned) i make good the details of every collapse. this is to continue forward in life.

ferox : wild; Bold; warlike; defiant

i think growth is so beautiful and fascinating. because there are moments where you can finally find the words to explain the ways you felt when you were younger and didn't have them yet, feeling helpless in your silence and search. and then there are the moments where you feel like that child all over again.

as i write about certain moments, i start to realize the feelings are so familiar. and maybe its the conglomoration of feelings through the years that make it feel that much stronger and intense now.

like i've been here before. i've felt this before. i've known love all along. i've known community all along. i am finally building it for myself. and now i have the words for it all.

don't fall in love

walk in love

live in love

roamers & seekers

we really out here setting ourselves free

intention and evolution has been really big so far this year

effort is the only measure from here on out

and then the vibe hits you and life is the vibe

july

i am scared i won't get to finish my sentence in the midst of telling my store. but the truth is: i am complete. i am lucky i got the chance to live. there is more of me now, than in yesterday. i am full and that is all i need to go on.

i am paused at the spilling point looking back, looking forward scared as hell. in the blur of spilling, i am all the things i used to be, i am in mourning, i am in bloom.

let curiosity reveal yourself to you.

reward yourself with the pursuit of your dreams.

seek the thrill in your own life.

and lastly, feel no shame.

to execute a vision, you have to trust the movement.

don't deny yourself anymore love just because you're not where you'd like to be. or because the thing you wanted didn't want you back. so what, fuck em. show up for yourself.

In life some moments make you disappear, others make you show up

when Lauryn sings "how you gonn win if you ain't right within"

& i am, oh i am right within for this small & shrinking moment

i am right within for this newborn praise,

because it is a new day

& the rain stopped,

& the clouds cleared earlier

& yes the darkness arrives earlier now

& yes the streets are still slick and humid

but on this day, the children are in them

dodging the street lights with their street smarts & bikes

& they leap across the city streets like they own them

with their knees still freshly bleeding from the last fall

but it is summer now & none of that matters

all that matters is these young bodies throwing themselves into the mouth of two jump ropes

& then into the mouth of the ocean

& this is the only country they know

this right here

what does it mean to get free when all you know is a country called freedom?

we speak of a free childhood

& she tells me "this is a great place to grow up but where do you go once you're grown?"

when home don't feel like home no more?

when home can't house your larger & older body

& all that's left to do is throw our bodies into the mouths

of ropes & oceans & each other

just like the good ol days

but these days they swallow us whole

& so i say then:

make a border around any place where you are loved & call it your own

& so i say then:

make a border around those who hold you up & build a home

& so i say then:

i know the suffering and burning cannot be forgotten

but if only for a sweet second, on this night

we claim a new & fleeting empire

governed by food & prayer from everyone's grandmas

& loud children

& men who drink and play games all day

& these men who know they ain't shit

& their women who know it better but have lived a tried and tired life

& loved them too long to stop now

& look what a beautiful country we can claim,

on this day,

how beautiful our borders are,

& so i say then to

our new & brief & fleeting home:

how we grow from you full

how we wish you everywhere

how we try to taste you in the air instead of war.

my face in the reflection of a wave

i am pretty

even if for a brief second before the crash

i am beautiful

look how pretty i am with god slowly drifting out of my heart like dry ice under a ceiling fan

it's 1998 in the tips of my fingers again

sometimes i forget how good the beginning feels until the end

i dream of rapture

i dream of war

i dream of my mouth forming a blanket around my most secret thoughts

i learn to become small under the shadow of what love i know

it is almost always summer here

even at the mountain peaks cloaked in snow

the mountains never stop moving even after we go

i think about everything forever in the light of the sun instead of dirt

and for the first time in forever,

it doesn't hurt

closeness. the lengthening of time. the love that rests in a name. the comfort words bring when they describe something perfectly. when they fulfill a purpose for me. when they make sense of all the chaos, and in this, the chaos also does not have a name. at least not one people can ever remember right. she, too, intimidates people. but here she lies. the signifer and the signified, slow dancing together in a small room, drunk on meaning. the dizzying lights of our insides spilling out, unencumbered by a physical form. all this love does not have a name. it can hardly be described, only felt in the deepest parts of the chest where no thoughts go. what have we become? a gnarled thing approximating love. a river overflowing with water. a fire burning with passion. finally, we build up the courage to purse our lips and we call it what it is. chaos turned benevolence.

i realize i think all my life my idea of relationships--and they, themselves-- was built around always talking and the exchange of words as a measure of connection. both a way to build and resolve. but with you, we just do. i think that is what's most refreshing. instead of exchanging words, we share experiences. & that's why this bond feels so much deeper.

remembering: the dream is to fly away and write. it is happening. the pages are turning and the wings(words) are preparing for flight.

ENERGY UNFUCKWITTABLE ALL SUMMER 18

there is something about this month that feels like a shout! a bursting, pulsating energy. so intoxicating and vibrant

like fierce, courageous, brave, gonna battle my own demons and dance with all my fears

like expanding past limitations that bind me and keep me small, keep me denying how deeply i yearn to love

something feels real honest about this month, and really, this whole summer.

what magic are you a vessel for?

Note to self: few can fight like you can, my dear. and your willingness to show up, wave after wave, to do the work you must do in this world is a blessing. thank you.

August

notice the roles that you cling to for validation. notice the ones that you stay in out of obligation. notice the ones you now have to contort yourself to fit into that you didn't used to. what felt good once, won't always. how you align with others is changing. how you work within your communities is changing. how you work towards your dream, vision, and hope for the future is changing.

change for a lifetime

i welcome the empty spaces that this purge creates. i remember that releasing what is burdensome yet familiar is far from comfortable, but completely necessary if i am to grow.

08.12.18 release for departure

convo with stephen from nov 2016

· "girl you are a trip, what am i gonna do with you?"

· "hope you enjoy your stay"

i do not look outside for what can only be fulfilled within. i do not try to get love, praise, or power from the world. i look for ways in which i can put more love into the structures i enter.

i know that every time i create a space for my own healing, i am making a powerful statement to myself and my life.

declaring that i am too worthy of such a radical act of love, i reclaim any power i gave the world to dictate how well i am doing.

this is where i come to refill and refuel

i gather myself around the fires of my creative capacities

this is the flame i am devoted to maintaining

the more i let go of what i think my life should look like, the more i am able to align myself with the regenerative energy of my creative process. i am using my time to discover, uncover, and validate the talent i naturally possess and the work ethic needed to help this goldmine do what it came here to.

like most things that live, i choose fluency in fire

i swallow the sun squirming in my hand like a seed

there's a whole lot of time and opportunity on this side

can't waste it

bop your head get your neck skrong

it was not a mistake to be open. i was always myself. i was never uncomfortable

(some people hurt you anyway)

i am still the ocean.

i feel myself healing. this is so powerful. i feel myself winning

release for a new life to occupy the space of pain and loss.

growth in place of pain

peace in place of unknown

gratitude filling to the brim

overflowing with joy

the body stretches and becomes an exit

everything must go except for me

so many people in cape town had commented on my confidence and how they need it to help them with their own. I think it’s fascinating the small things people notice about you that sticks most with them

it's fascinating. this is a different type of gravitational pull. i am more grounded with this energy. it's more than intriguing, it's inspiring to these men. and frankly, these people.

Keep learning yourself. Keep loving yourself.

Free up ya heart boo

“yeah but you’re different tho, you stay true to yourself wherever you go”

be proud of who you are and where you come from: roots, origins, language, accents, food, clothes, culture, heritage, traditions-- all of it.

be yourself because everyone else is already taken. And be proud cuz can’t nobody do you like you

reclaiming my energy

September

keep asking yourself if what you are doing has any energy behind it. if it excites your being. if it clarifies your reasons for advancing along the lines that you are. if it doesn't life your spirit in some major way, it's not going to have the stamina to work in the long run.

who really gonn hold us down? me

never know where you go, rollercoaster

all your highs got a low, rollercoaster

some of us gotta be homes for those who can’t/don’t know how to be their own

the distance that you have travelled along the healing roads you have tread

lift up how you have mastered some of the hardest lessons you have had to learn recently

praise you for taking the time to process what hurts

a kind of murder

and i don't feel like writing about protest or poetry of how one informs the other

what choice has america given me but to weaponize my own breathing, to organize every inhale/exhale into a grassroots movement of sound?

my very pulse

a poem

do you know any mothers zomibified by grief? working class women who mourn on a sliding scale?

im stuck at the border and i think theres something in the water

centered & uncensored

it is september 7th & i have been writing about birth & death like clockwork. stare at the clock and read that mac miller is dead.

a heavy day of processing

another life lost to substance abuse

& we watch the news

& we see death everywhere

& we feel devastation

& we take this moment to vow to take care of ourselves through the pain of life & growth

fuck man.

it is so easy to lose yourself in this world

it is so easy to lose sight of who you are

it is so easy to let yourself go

in all the wrong ways

spiraling into control

remembering who i am

reclaiming my space

reclaiming my time

reclaiming my energy

shoulda died already

why the fuck you need me

don’t you know how to fly already

we forgot our roots before & trust me, things, they fell apart

my life is on these words, this is my affidavit

I can’t see a thing but things never been clearer

We on the same trip / we just got different baggage

your wounds aren’t always your fault

but your healing is your responsibility

hashtag we are doing whatever we want 2018 till infinity

only thinking forward

only doing forward

only being forward

can't fake vibes. synergy. living things in your living spaces (children, plants, pets, spouse) consume your energy. surround yourself with positive vibes and high vibrating energy

home...is it a building? a city? a country? a state of mind? a state of mine?

where i seek,

i find,

myself

travel with all of its clouded and unexpected moments is still the most me i feel. i feel most at home when i am moving between the delicate balance of belonging to my self and the world. i miss my family but in that space from here to there i don't miss any parts of me.

"she guessed my favorite color on the first try..

but between me and u.....i didnt even have a favorite color until she yelled out yellow!! she was hella excited n smiling like a little kid. so i told her she was right and i havent seen yellow the same since, its in everything. i could probably live in it now."

there is no place more intimate than the spirit alone

my family spans the entire globe and I am lucky that I get to love them

I have so much joy that I don’t feel like I’m fighting anymore

in a world of choices, I choose me

you probably inspire people that don’t have a clue what it is you actually do

nowstalgia - creating moments i will forever look back on & love

"you have the confidence of like a woman and i need you to help me"

a man writes into my phone at 12 am at a bar in the middle of cape town on a wednesday night. i look down, laugh, and shaking my head, ask, "help with what?"

"my confidence" he answers, looking into my eyes and then quickly down.

the same night, a few hours later, another man stops me and tells me

" when i look into your eyes i see love"

i look down, laugh and shaking my head, ask, "what makes you think it's for you?"

the same night, a few hours earlier, another man finds out i'm a poet and writes a poem in his phone about me

it began with "she is albanian. she is american. she is everything good balanced. she is exotic. she is...."

it ended with "and she is a muse for every nigger to come her way"

i look down, laugh, and shaking my head, ask, "what?"

the same bar, a few weeks later, the same man comes up to me and asks "hey do you remember me?! i wrote that poem in your phone. i wanted to formally ask you if we could work on poetry together. like you start and i'll take it somewhere. i just wanna take you somewhere"

one is a fitness trainer. gets any pussy he wants. still needs help with his confidence.

one is a business man. gets all the money he wants. still needs love.

one is just a man. somewhere between a writer and a regular man. gets lost in everything he comes across. still needs a muse.

still.

needs & wants.

we still.

loss, tastes like her skin on a bed next to a warm saturday sun. loss, tastes like her mind over emails, over texts, over whatsapp negotiations that travel over art & dreams & what it means to kiss god. loss, tastes like her soul over troubled bridges trying their hardest to stay above water & not burn. loss, tastes like, her heart torn and mended in fear & hope. the heart that sacrificed itself in the name of peace.

loss, tastes like confusion, cuz you know that there ain't no damn nobility in giving up heaven to create peace in hell. and hell, if i could just get a piece of peace, i'd be good and well. loss, tastes like, you need to drink more water and eat more fruit and all the self care trends lost in a sea of no self love, and perhaps, just maybe once the bitterness has passed down your throat, and the water washes it away, once you've washed away the moans from your lips, you both, this time, without teeth, only with tongue, can love again.

and then. you can tell me what love tastes like. the love we lay in.

I am unwilling to be led away from myself

i forgive us both for... being passing ships in the night--sails set on separate horizons. what is the point of wishing things were different? they were different enough. curiosity is the current which guides the bow of the boat. and our curiosity led us to different spaces. made us think our dreams on different horizons. who can we blame for the calmness of the tide before the storm came? who can we blame for how quietly the storm came and left? who can we blame on those nights when we had a chance? once enough time passes, once enough distance is gained, it will no longer feel like a loss or a mistake. to not confuse loss with lost. merely the consequence of brevity in a wide sea of opportunity. how were were supposed to know? you and me? who do we blame? you or me? we cannot possibly embark on every path presented to us. and for this, i forgive us. for being passing ships in the night. the storm has passed. it has turned to day. and i must say. there is an overwhelming sense of peace in forgiveness.

my parents were tasked with the job of survival and i with self actualization. the immigrant generational gap is so real. what a luxury it is to search for purpose, meaning and fulfillment. and when i try to explain it to them and they don't understand, i gotta remember, we don't always speak the same language.

let it go. you're ready to vibrate higher.

the old life. is an old life. one you have already lived. one you do not have to keep living. you are too wondrous. for one life.

feel it. the thing that you don't want to feel. feel it. and be free.

i have been facing a lot of my hidden feelings & demons here. i have been freeing myself.

they loved me in pieces

in sequels and trilogies

in songs and stories

in ideas and concepts

but never whole.

i am beginning to come home to myself as i should and listen more closely to the truth. i am not just what i do - not even just what i think - but i am also a unique expression of my parents' genes. i have spent my whole life running from this, just to now finally run towards it. i am an offspring. i spring forward in the summer. i am a river drifting toward one great big sea. i am a brief dreamer. i came from a truly unknown plane where i had no say. but that does not matter because i am a miraculous actuality. nothing is more comforting than this undeniable presence. and the beauty of understanding it. coming back to family. coming back home. coming back to me.

i have arrived & i am ready.

my voice, not just as my voice, but as an echo of all those that came before me. how affirming this is.

HEAVEN ALL AROUND ME

people grow when they are loved well. if you want to help others heal, love them without an agenda.

healing has been so freeing.

the next step: figuring out how to undo this inherent guilt.

be aware of how your voice dominates spaces.

how much space you are taking up

take note:

when do you feel big in a space?

when do you feel small?

how big are you actually? (vs just how big/small you feel?)

closure like collision

i remind myself that anything i repeatedly imagine is also imagining me

October

movement.

there is no way around complexity. everything is touching and leaving (its stain, shadow, mark, vibration) in passing.

we live such residual lives, like the ocean tides.

we seek communities that might best master the mess of it. and yet, the way we are deeply alone in our minds- that is its own kind (of art, mess, playground, salvation).

the heart told us about oscillation, showed us what a throbbing web of nerves is able to accomplish.

there is no way around the intricacies of humans being. of energy being.

i'm nothing if not forthcoming / i tell you / i show you / i give you me freely / if it's wasted on you, then that's on you / i give up making it my problem / i give up making demands / you lose / you win / whatever you want / we will sleep fine at night / won't we / i will keep my heart sweet / won't i / i'm nothing if not healing / i tell you / i show you / i feel you / i heal you / we will keep our love sweet / won't we

it's been a while, so the smoke travels down our legs slowly, and it feels like we are taking root. we share cold mango juice to stave off the humidity and the cottonmouth. sometimes our fingers interlock like the tree roots, in the middle of the night. the clouds rid us of our names. we are down to our breath and our skin and a conversational silence, lit at the bud's end. blooming at the center.

this weekend was...

paradise

a trip

a journey

climax

cloud 9 and everything above it

freedom

this weekend i let go

i let myself do what i never do. i let myself feel and fall

i've held on for too long. the price to pay is a heavy one, but it is all worth it. for that sweet taste of sensation after falling into temptation. for that sweet sweet lovin you love on me with. even if just for a day. it sustains me for months. it stays with me for years. the love we encounter carries us. but you must let yourself fall into it's hands, let it hold you & console you tightly. feel the way it heals, patches up wounds and lets them reveal the beauty underneath. fresh flesh reveals itself. heals itself. "there are bits of god inside all of us" he tells me as we speak of our natural healing tendencies and our strength and resilience as we make it up this final stretch of a mountain. our legs on the brink of giving up but our minds not letting us. our hearts just catching up. "everything is connected when you really think of it"

there is always someone to love.

that someone is me

a study:

did you leave my life better than you found it?

did i leave your life better than i found it?

distance/absence makes the heart fonder/grow the fuck up

Ubuntu

intention behind creation

(?)

growth at the expense of what?

our parents think they always do whats best for us but they fuck up along the way. and that becomes a reflection on us. how we deal with it on both ends determines whether that mirror reflection shatters or gets mended.

we are just enough. we've come such a long way. we may not have had the right examples of love but we have grown and nurtured ourselves to a point where we love people in a way that sticks.

midnight rain and the thought of your hands in my hair. i pillow my head on whispering darkness that envelopes me like a sheet, while i search blind for your light. extend my hands in volition, in surrender, to feel your body crystalline against mine. tell you how limestone tastes under the weight of years. all those lives calcified. meanwhile, time is running, reaching around the moon for me tonight. she knows the spaces between artery and vein, in spaces between depth and vain, the in and out of heated blood, the in and out of beating blood. meanwhile, on the horizon, lighting licks the mountains into a brisk and subtle start. you sleep by open windows to let the thunder and lightning lull you into quiet. i lie awake with constellations tucked between me, touching nameless skin, giving name to this life we live under and in.

sometimes the only way onward is inward

a word:

i don't think we (as a culture) fully understand how hard it is for artists to exist in 2 realms:

reality and whatever the universe is where we constantly travel to find inspiration, imagination, concepts, etc. we often find ourselves battling depression and at war with ourselves because we're not really equipped to go on the human part of this journey while time traveling between the two. it's weird. i don't know how to explain it fully because we're like here but at the same time we're always elsewhere. and people don't know how to accept that. and shit, sometimes, neither do we. but this shit is so real man.

the question accompanying the poet like her shadow under the sun is: who am i to be so alone? who am i if i am not with another? the demand for another is always mute but piercing. all these texts ask for another and all the poets ask for another, but not so much another person as so much another tongue, another language, even for a foreign language perhaps, because the essence of poetry is to find strangeness in language.

"tiring

yet inspirational

warrior"

-cory

today feels still and spiraling and solid all in one. it's been a reflective time and now its go time.

i'm grateful for the work i do. i'm learning a ton.

i have to remind myself, as i look around my life, that this position is temporary. i fear sometimes that i'll be stuck here reliving the same day until i die. all my life, folk have called this stability. without a plan for elevation, that's stagnation. i've been quiet for the past few days, planning, and praying, and listening to myself. tuning in. is this a turning point or a tuning point? you decide

there's nothing about this, or perhaps everything about this, is poetic. i'm trying to stay focused on growing into the very best version of myself amidst all the movement that is my life. some moments are overwhelming. some, you sit in the center and remind yourself how beautifully solid you are.

when the right energy comes around you

the wrong energy gets nervous

an unhealed person can find offense in pretty much anything someone does.

a healed person understands that the actions of others has absolutely nothing to do with them.

every day, you get to decide which one you will be.

so we're sitting in a tent in darling at 5 am with a group of people who were complete strangers just a few days before (Ayanda, Tando, Chat) and once starts speaking in Afrikaans and the other responds in Tsutu and another answers in Xhosa and they're having a full conversation across so many different tongues. and understanding each other through it all. and i look up and the moon is tucking away under a brighter sky. and once again, it hits me that i'm here. i'm in the middle of south africa. i'm tripping the fuck out. such is the beauty of language. of life. of journey. this shit is so beautiful, i almost can't believe i'm in it. all the love & light.

once you have flown,

you will walk the earth

with your eyes turned skyward;

for there you have been

there you long to return

-leonardo da vinci

of all the people in the world, you talk to yourself more than anyone. make sure you are saying the right things. in the right ways.

travel is not reward for working, it's education for living. - anthony bordain

i've come to understand and accept, after years of famishing my joy on a diet of self-excusing grievances and fighting against the sweet and bitter aroma of purpose, that life is in fact gorgeous. even when it is making beauty out of our ugliest ingredients. i think of this now, this moment, i am on the cusp of manifesting gods in the presence of my enemies. this, while the world i know-the me that i knew is commanding change and death (the only things guarunteed)- a carving away of unhealthy thoughts and habits. i know we're taught through various trendy doctrines to point the finger at the world, but let me be honest here: i am the only enemy i have ever known.

this fire of death & life has happened so many times and i just wasn't ripe enough to humble myself to its knife. the demand to remain present during the discomfort in your shoulders as wood and wounds meets ceramic and regrets, as the anxiety about a pledged future churn through your mind, is just as beautiful.

i don't believe it's too late. i do know that i have to plant myself, learn all the things i didn't know and unlearn all the things i thought i knew. i know that i don't need to hang out in hopes of tasting community or family cuz i'm feeding myself. i don't need validation cuz the recipes are already laid out in front of/ inside of me. life ain't perfect, but the truth is, nothing can stop you from forgiving yourself and healing, but you. nothing can make you know, beyond a feeling, that you're deserving of every good & perfect gift that you are blessed with. there is nothing, not a goddamn thing that can devour a hungry soul.

and for that, stay bold & keep going.

the woman that i'm becoming gives me chills. i'm obligated to move differently. i have work to do.

me sharing my story allowed me to grow away from it. with every book i sell, comes the realization that...it's just a story. even though it's mine. i have books circulating the entire world right now. i let it go. and i'm still building upon it.

your entire life can change in just one year. you just gotta love yourself enough to know you deserve more, be brave enough to demand more, and be disciplined enough to actually work for more.

you won't always be motivated, which is why you have to be disciplined.

i am mastering motivation. and i've come pretty close. motivation is everywhere but it has to find you working. i've been working nonstop here and it has found me repeatedly. continuously. exhaustively.

next to conquer: discipline.

until you flip your perception on its head, you'll be stuck in the same position

vision keeps growing clearer but i keep losing focus. gotta change my lens maybe

what if i picked up the pace?

what if i actually started running the race?

what kind of media are you taking in?

throwback to this gem from stephen: "i don't want you to experience disappointment for disappointment's sake. i want you to experience disappointment for what it feels like the next day"

saron: "people need to realize that your existence isnt to be their escape route"

if the heart isnt in it, the blood doesn't flow

how repetition has grounded me

through words

through gestures

through experiences

worry bout yourself and don't worry bout nobody

take care of yourself and take care of your body

restructure & reroute

pay attention to your heart / never go astray

closure is an unknown variable. always. i always have to heal without it. always. nothing helps except time. and it can't be rushed. if it takes a thousand days, if it takes consecutive journal pages asking why to an unresponsive reason, so be it. until the scar fades. until a reinvigorated life overwrites the old one. i go forward with the wound open.

feeling for harmony between the ridges

what are you taking personally instead of taking as an indication of what to heal, bring to consciousness, and bring into therapeautic spaces?

if it hurts, it needs your attention. tend to your pain points.

wish everyone the best cuz i know where i'm headed

woman as appendage

woman as appendix

a soft & pursed smile

a soft & cursed smile

the thing i came for:

the wreck and not the story of the wreck

the thing itself and not the myth

the drowned face always staring toward the sun

not all loneliness can or should be filled or fixed. some of it should continue to exist exactly as it does. solitude is the default state. there is a single presence here: self-recognition. i am alive, and that all i truly know for sure.

or.

the default state is community. my first village was my mother. my second was the landscape. my third was the village that carried my three year old body. i was gifted with loneliness the morning i was born and torn from her womb. when i seek communion, i am dreaming of the womb from the beginning- before i was a name or number- where life chose us. it is a series of solitude which follows that first choosing.

but.

sometimes i miss you anyway. i dream of linking our loneliness, forming a single presence through the filling. love as a filling of sorts. we are deeply alive, and love is how we taste our first choosing together. you remind me of the beginning of time

this month is full of aweh's and yebo's

i love how this language always affirms people

they have words for "i hear you" "i see you" "i feel you"

ingesi is how you say english in isiXhosa & in Yoruba

gesi means electricity in zulu

· slowly uncovering/creating what my name means every day

so i recently found out that my book, my baby will be featured on a syllabus at the University of Cape Town to be studied as a subject of American & cultural literature & poetry. I don't yet have the words for how powerful this is or how I feel or how this is beyond my wildest dreams. I am beyond honored that my work has not only landed but is to be studied in one of my new beloved homes of Cape Town. You know, you start writing your story and one day, you muster up the courage to share it in hopes that someone will relate and it will help heal them as it is healing you. But it's a whole different game when you begin to get asked for it, when people are seeking it, when people are studying it. It's an inexplicable feeling. I don't have a lot of words right now except for these: I am so blessed. To the students that will be studying my narrative while I fly back halfway across the world: you are who I do this for. It is people like you that keep me going. People like you who, when I stop along my journey and crippling self doubt asks "am I really supposed to be here? what am I really doing? why doesn't my progress look like anyone else's?", it is you that answers. that affirms me. To the culture(s) that raised me: you are who I do this for. To put lil ol' Albania on the map as a place rich in culture and people & let em know we have a story to tell too. To help us find our voices. To my third culture kin: to remind everyone you can be both Albanian & Brooklyn & you don't have to pick your identity. To my beloved friends that have become family: you are who I do this for. for, your endless hypeman antics keep me going. & your incredibly talented spirits keep me inspired & motivated. To my parents: you are who I do this for. Trust & believe. The point is, knowing and staying true to yourself & your journey can get you through anything, and take you to heights you may have never imagined. And I stil can't believe any of it. Because I took off the earth crust and flew. Because I am still landing. Because all the while, my support system keeps my moving spirit grounded. I am in a place of unshakeable peace and happiness as I vow to live my truth wholeheartedly & unapologetically. The power in our stories is something that cannot be measured until it is released. If you asked 3 year old Gesi if she could have ever imagined something like this, she would tilt her head back, releasing an uproar of disbelief and laughter. & then go climb some mountain somewhere. Here's to soaring. Here's to our release, to our healing. Here's to our dreams surpassing themselves. Thank god, thank self for finally becoming who I've wanted to be all along. The woman I'm becoming is scaring me and I'm loving every second of it. All this to say, I am in love. All this to say, how far I am. All this to say, colors in every direction.

November

how is cape town framed to the foreigner?

what kinds of tensions are around you right now?

what is your tension?

what are your resistance practices?

we want to get all our ends of the story

you are building an archive of perspectives here

anything i do going forward has to water me back

you don't break habits; you only replace them

an era of release

fears that go unfaced become limits

and i am letting go to make room for my breathing

we often forget to make room for the things we need most; the things that keep us alive.

we don't think about breathing so we don't make room for it. to change this

#gratitudeistheattitude

the question is: how do i want to live the rest of my life and what am i doing to insure that i get to do it exactly or as close as possible to how i want that living to be? i want to live the rest of my life, however long or short, with as much sweetness as i can decently manage, loving all the people i love, and doing as much as i can of the work i still have to do. i am going to write fire until it comes out my ears, my eyes, my nose--everywhere! until it's every breath i breathe. i'm going to go out like a fucking meteor!

i want to live as shamelessly as possible. i want the full lightness of freedom. i want the orgasmic quality of being who and what i am.

and i want to be enjoyed or left alone. nothing in between.

words are our timekeepers. our balconies overlooking our lives. our conversations. our merging

woke up wine drunk and happy. woke up to a joint rolled and ready. woke up to a lover laying next to me. woke up to a cup of tea. woke up at 4 am to the hoxha singing prayers from the mosque. woke up and felt my gramps spirit. woke up and cried in a spiritual experience. woke up and fed my soul. woke up in love. woke up in a tree house. fell asleep & woke up to a new life every time i opened my eyes. two lovers in Bo Kaap

(a short story that reads in both words & pictures, forwards & backwards)

listening to Hookers on the corner and almost missed my light

· almost missed my light these past few weeks

· had to remind/remember who i am and why i am.

Goddess of Growth

keeps showing up

i welcome her with open arms every time.

jupiter last travelled through your 9th house from late 2006-7.

what did you learn?

where did you travel?

what did you publish, seek, and find to be true for you then?

what similar growth spurt are you experiencing now?

how is your current exploration, expansion, or learning a continuation of that time?

everything good and long-lasting requires our effort. yours is needed but whatever you give to yourself at this moment is matched by the universe's benevolence

the 12th house is also about the work we do behind the scenes, this transit is especially beneficial to anything in its creative incubation. protect it. expand inward with it. watch your inner life for inspiration. keep watching the ways in which your projects take shape when given the right space to safely grow

bad energy (stay far away)

keep my shades on cuz they tryna see the vision

homie said greatness and nothing was the same

i told him i need some space

real busy body, never stay in one place

in the past week, a couple of different guys have confessed love/strong feelings for/to me. & along with all the other heavy shit going on around me right now i'm caught in a whirlwind of overwhelming male energy. and so i had to step away for a while. i've had to use the past few weeks to really ground myself. the universe is testing me in the space i'm in right now. there is some overwhelming aggressive negative energies around right now. this is her testing how my grounding is. because i'm still floating. but i had to come back down. she wants to know just how hard i've worked at grounding and healing.

there's also a lot of new energies around. some of them feel quite destructive. this is her testing how i will react/respond/move accordingly.

i am just in a space where if you are coming into my life to interrupt or distract me in any way, just stay away. don't come in at all. no interruptions or distractions welcome.

i enjoy most things. almost everything. yet i have some restless searcher in me. why is there not a discovery in life? something one can lay their hands on and say "this is it". perhaps i've felt it before and haven't known. perhaps i've felt it too many times that it becomes numb and unknown. my depression is a harassed feeling. i'm looking: but that's not it--that's not it. what is it then? and shall i die before i find it? can i live for it? then, as i was walking through rondebosch square last night, i see the mountains in the sky, the great clouds, and the moon which is risen over cape town. i think of how the sun rises over the city & sea and sets behind the mountains & into the sea. i wonder what kind of intimacy that must be. those last few moments of glimmer and light before she tucks away below the horizon into another world. those first few moments when the sky darkens to the moon's light. let's it shine bright. i wonder what kind of intimacy that must be. i have a great and astonishing sense of something there, which is "it". it is not exactly beauty that i mean. it is that the thing is in itself enough; satisfactory; achieved. a sense of my own strangeness walking on the earth is there too: of the infinity oddity of the human position; trotting alone rondebosch square with the moon up there watching over me and the clouds sitting like a tablecloth atop the mountain peaks. who am i, what am i, why am i, and so on: these questions are always floating about in me, and it is only when i am flying that i have a sense of an answer. and then, i bump against some exact fact-- a letter, a person, and come to them with a great sense of freshness. and so it goes on. but on this showing, which is true, i think, i do fairly frequently come upon this "it", and then feel quite at peace.

you never know what the child's reaction is going to be: either break down or the child emerges solid as a rock from the experience

he wanted to fuck her once, but that doesn't mean much. that's the laziest desire. a flimsy thing. she wanted her soul sucked clean. she wanted something as tough as god. could not find it among men but hoped still, for the next best thing.

she wanted it to be you.

i am not in a rush to do anything anymore

depression is what it sounds like. and beyond. it is a sinking of sorts. it is a darkening. it is a gradual thing but also something that knocks one day and enters without asking. you feel the downward spiral as you bore through the earth of your life, surrounded on all sides by sullen ideas too thick to get out of. that happens slowly and without much effort over the course of what could be months or years. and before you know it, the very shape of your breathing has changed. this is what i know.

but i also know that healing is possible. but it happens slowly and takes twice as much effort. whereas depression feels like a falling, healing is a digging and pulling. it is digging into the deepest parts of your soul so you can finally face them. i forget that it took years to bury myself inside my sorrow and it could take years to climb back up into my light. but that is my time to take. perhaps i'm not ready to break my heart in new ways. and perhaps it will be a while before i'm dancing every day again. but no longer do i shy away from the shadow of where i've been.

i've started dancing almost daily again. tonight, i danced with her, with all this earth around me, tasting every trace of light within me.

i look for ways to say i love you but i ain't into makin love songs

i'm findin it hard to settle i want it all forever

summer in november darling

what's your november?

cafes are where i process the world around me

losing my fucking mind but chilling at the same time

I shouldn’t bleed this good or often

all i am is everything and nothing at all

all i am is a shoulder for your heart to lean on

all i am is love

processing...

slowing down...

there is a wave of loss and grief coming over the people in my life again. we are all tuned into it and the synchronicity is this overwhelming but also comforting feeling. the universe is trying to teach us something here. about attachment. about letting go. about releasing. about healing. it is an era of release all over again. which is a frequency i've been riding throughout this year, but this time the wave hit me quite hard because the loss is more tangible. but it has gotten me to look at things differently. as my time in south africa slowly draws to a close, i have been thinking about the proper steps to transition myself out of here and back to new york. the difference in cape town is, i don't feel a temporality in it, like i do with every other place i go. i have truly made a home for myself here and it is grounding point just as much as it is a moving/flying point. but maybe this is what i needed. there has been a really aggressive energy surrounding me these past few weeks and maybe this is the doing away of it. can't tell if i'm numb or calm at this point but i'm hoping its the latter. i'll see better in retrospect. but for the time being, maybe this marks the beginning of this era of release. at the end of the day i'm still livin and lovin and everything in between. love & light.

sun is alone too. still shines.

i'm most upset about the ideas i lost in that phone. the cape town overheards amongst other shit. art ideas and projects. i am glad though that i'm such a journal freak and that i have scatters of jounrnal thoughts spread in multiple books and online thoughts. but. lesson learned. backing up is extremely important. beyond that, it is a lesson in inspiration, motivation & discipline. which have been themes i've been meditating on a lot lately. inspiration & motivation are everywhere, but they have to find you working. discipline, however is what you gotta build to make leeway for the rest to flow through. an opening of sorts.

feet hurt today. they are asking me for more grounding.

the tools you created to survive won't serve you when it's time to thrive

we create defense mechanisms to shield us against the trauma of our youth but they can be damaging once we are out of those situations & will often lead to self sabotage

closure doesn't come. there is only an ever-growing distance between then and now. and the old thing is interwoven an overwritten

the answer is still the same:

you won't get what you want till you work on what you need

at your best, you are love

you're a positive motivating force in my life

though this feeling of solitude is familiar, the strength that allows me to embrace it is refreshing and new

i got angels

invoking the angels in times of need. for guidance. for protection. you can't move how you've always moved. like everything is just as normal as it used to be. because it just isn't.

recognize how you shift the space of a room when you walk into it. recognize that for who you are. as much as i just want to be normal and move as such the universe keeps showing me that things aren't what they used to be. and how i see myself is not how people see me. and so i gotta move differently. suddenly my identity shifts into this liminal space in a venn diagram between how i see myself and how people see me. and once again, i'm caught in between.

bottom line is, believe in yourself

i've got too much love within me to choose being bitter and closed off. i've just got to be more careful and selective with who i dispense my love to.

i'm sure there's a lesson in all this but it's so hard to keep tuning in cuz i'm so fucking exhausted

nothing says focus like distance

i know i have something to tend to

tis the season

[feelings redacted]

sometimes the universe will take everything away so that all we have left is trust

making my mother miserable by creating something that will make her proud

the words may escape us but it is the knowing that matters. It is the knowing that creates our adventure. (harris)

love yourself so that when love comes it is not a stranger

do your best, leave the rest

can’t take care of every fucking thing

December

just read the signs its clear to see

to heal, it takes some time

woke up in the sky

harris running through the hall into the door with his hands full of things yelling "where is my girl?!" is a feeling i want to feel forever. so much joy. so much warmth. everything is forgotten except for each other's company.

my least favorite thing is having to answer to people. i dream of a world where i can live and be myself wholeheartedly and not have to worry about answering to no one. a world where i can disappear for a while and not have to constantly update people. how freeing. how freeing that i am slowly creating this world for myself.

i aint askin why no more

taking it all if its mine

i never did know how to stay within the lines

only knew how to fly

bullets that don’t carry the names they take with them

all this chatter bout movement / tell me something by doin it

I ain’t been comfortable / that’s bad for the soul

albums of 2018: flower boy, saturation I II III,

astroworld, kamau's urth,

finally flipped my perception and got in the drivers seat and driving on my own side at my own pace.

and now i have to leave the space that helped me do this. while also carrying everything it taught me with me

for the first time in a long time, my heart and soul are in the same space that i occupy physically

"so who's the lucky man?"

"hahaha nobody. i'm the lucky woman. i belong to myself, first and only."

· i hate how people assume that happiness and joy and carefreeness is attached to a belonging to a man. fuck that i been making myself happy this whole time.

all of a sudden, the people i been admiring from afar for years, this year i have been attracting. it's not even a forced or predictable thing. it's a gravitational energy thing. when your energy is right, the right people (some who you would've never thought) come into your life and contribute to it.

i switched the time zone, but what do i know?

i could fly home with my eyes closed

and you could find me, i ain't hiding

almost got stuck in oblivion

exoticism under a microscope

my soul swollen

my wallet empty

either way you golden

GoLD [moving STiLL]

feeling kamau's energy heavily lately

our time together was brief but so intense [as everything with me tends to be]

but the energy exchanged there has stayed with me. and continues to show up randomly when i need it most

feeling MuRiN most in times of transition

i just let it go

we don't ever know

where its gonna go

we go with the flow

we just let it go

i already know

that we're gonna grow

like the way the world goes round

funny how it all comes down

figuring out how to cultivate and encompass longevity

cuz darling i wake up just to sleep with you

i hate when people disappoint me. and i don't get disappointed easily.

it's just like fuck man.

i dropped so many guys for you. cuz you showed me better and then i didn't care for them because they didn't fulfill me the way you did. but i never told you/showed you that part cuz it didn't matter. all that matters is that i showed up for you. time and time again. and you left me hanging. time and time again. now i'm tired. & you're timeless.

i'm not even mad really. i'm just fuckin sad. like i gotta say bye to all the love i've built here. and the people involved are just making it harder. i don't understand why guys always act up before i leave. i wish they would just fucking be normal so we can enjoy the time we have left fully. instead of, i feel like i always spend the last week or so trying to mend weird energy and arguments so we can part ways on a good foot. but my feet are fucking tired. and so is my heart. i just wish people were as kind and understanding with their love.

and just stop being so fucking petty man. like i get it i'm leaving. but we been knew this. for months. we knew this before we even started things. so why let that stop us now? can't let that end us before we end ourselves. can we just be grown about transitions and departures? can we talk about it? can we communicate our emotions through the process? can we let it be a natural flowing process? can you ask me how i'm doing in the midst of it? instead of disregarding the tough shit and creating more for me to deal with. can we just groove? you see the way we make each other move? fuck all that other noise. at the end of the day, it's just you and me, for as long as can be. until one of us has to leave. until then, can we let that be?

i'm always leaving. that's always the cut off. i'm always leaving one place and off to another. i wish that didn't always get in the way. i crave a lover who is willing to understand that.

· the only thing i crave is people that love and understand my moving spirit without trying to change it

heavy influx of emotions this morning as i work through the growing pains of leaving again.

gratitude as grounding

i've got love all over me. written all over me. hanging all over me. wear my love on my sleeve

not the whole heart, but in parts.

to think of all the parts of my heart

the parts that ground. that strengthen. that heal. that love.

imagine that. all in one organ. all flowing through me. relentlessly.

how can i not be in love with life?

i think it's time to step away from this space to fully understand and contextualize what this all means for me. i have my work cut out for me. i need to understand what this all means for me so i can do the work to bring myself back here. i know now that cape town is part of my journey. it is a home base for me. a grounding point just as much as a moving point

"make sure you stay soulfully grounded in this transition. and keep your inner compass intact"

i said greatness

& nothing was the same

free till i evaporate

my whole body see thru

been crying every day for the past week. let these tears be the fertilizer for the growth that is about to take place.

loss as a release to make room for the gift of abundance

2018 has been a year of so much loss/release

i know there is much abundance coming my way that the universe is making room for.

i also know i have to put in the work for it

"i'm happy for each day that i see you smile. such comfort and a blessing. a good source of strength."

Response/title "i'm trying to feel again"

a whatsapp convo between terrence and his sister

you already writing the story, might as well a book right? why not?

same time tomorrow

overheard: "i pray every day or at least talk to god. and its like i'm always begging for immortality"

they never bothered to understand me until i understood myself

they only listen when you speak your soul

they only see you when you see yourself

break bread with me

better yet, bake bread with me

we be so worried about how much we need the dough

we forget the little things we need to know

like how to knead the dough

if done properly it won't spread so thin when your people show

here i am.

i'm grateful for the aura of protection that allows me to explore my creativity and time on this earth. i'm grateful for believing in myself and my own potential. i'm grateful for the love that guides and carries me

DONT LET ANYONE TELL YOU THAT YOU CANT DO EXACTLY WHAT YOU WANT

all the energy i used to give you

i now give to myself

GODSPEED

tan lines on my back, my life startin to feel like a special occasion. these past 6 months felt like a vacation. standing between the mountains, the city, and the sea, i finally see myself. i found gesi. now we steady flowing into eternity. when i say we makin waves, i'm talkin wavelengths and vibrations. movement is the only option, never stagnation.

�� give me pollination not validation

you might stop howling & become the moon

"when we were outside you were all different and more composed. soon as we step in you sit down lean back and say 'yeah bruv whats good? light that shit' and i just think thats really dope"

people often comment on the distinction between my public and private self, but the fact of the matter is that the course of my journey forces me to have the two and balance the two. i can't just be transparently me all the time because there's always people watching. and to leave myself entirely open is to be vulnerable to many energies that can interrupt my own.

navigating public spaces requires a sense of sensitivity and confidence. communication between you and your surroundings is pivotal to feeling like you are allowed to belong. understanding that space can only be accessed through a certain level of moral integrity and not through entitlement or ego. but to also understand your energy is special and not for everyone and then to let that shit g(r)o(w)

help me understand the responsibility of masculinity

what we lack in father figures

we make up through masculinity

and measure in figures

perpetuating a system that only hurts

you & me

let me teach you how

your vulnerability is a masterpiece

it's hard to stop my movement when i'm already in motion

always grinding

always grounded

being true to yourself is nothing short of revolutionary

special shoutout to mzi for being there for us. for praying for our safety. for loving and caring for us the way he does. he is truly such a special spirit in my life.

special shoutout to us. me and orjada. me and my sister. we are fucking champs for handling it the way we did. we didn't let go of each other no matter how much they tried to separate us. who knows how things would have turned out if they did. we screamed to the top of our fucking lungs and managed to protect our things and ourselves with minimal damage. our timing was divine. the universe still looked out for us.

i seriously need to tune into what the universe is trying to tell us lately. about loss, release, attachment. about the spaces we find ourselves in. about feeling like we are just normal people leading just normal lives but knowing we are too different for that to be true. and most of all, about grounding.

shoutout to the way we came home and talked about it till our hearts were sore so we wouldn't let fear and trauma fester.

i hate the way trauma instills a permanent kind of fear. that makes you scared to do anything at all.

it's been so long since i've had to unpack and process trauma. but we've gotten through much worse so i know we can get through this.

They have nothing of ours. We have everything intact

all women with sob stories. know trauma. have heard his echos one too many times. i want to scrub him off of her body. want to give her her body back. i wil whisper any hymn to you. what would you like to hear. whisper "he didn't take anything from you" until it becomes yours always. i will sit on shattered glass with you. bleed. we can laugh at all the puzzled poems our trauma can make together. say a thing out loud. ask a stupid question like: can i make a complaint to tinder for letting mold grow on the edges of my homegirl's bed? see the thing is it is not stupid. her body just wont get an answer. if she sees her body growing dirt, we will make soil our friend. we will tend to the growth that needs to take place. pain as fertilizer instead of the dirt itself. all of deforested trees leave roots. so i vow that we will grow something in this waterless patch. become the water ourselves one night and cry, pouring into each other. scream into the sunset that i love you and you didn't deserve it. scream that a man aint anything but a thing that only knows taking. never just talking about a man. never will rush you into another man and never will not smile if you ever let a man touch you again. see how proud i am of you. home girl had the audacity to wear yellow. do you know how brave yellow tastes after blood spills everywhere and you call no one? when i say call me, what i mean is 911 won't come for us. what i mean is i got you. what i mean is we all know emergency, say hello to our bodies. what i mean is turn on blue lights before the sirens come. bruises in place of the absence of blue lights. how our bodies manage to fill voids if the thing itself cannot save us. spill everywhere. i love you all soil and waterfall. yellow and the bleeding. fuck 911 and call me. what i mean is i am sorry. i want his head on my lap. what i mean is i am sorry. i am tired of violence being non negotiable when violence is all we're asked to swallow. i want to hold his mother's hand. i want your smile and you in yellow even if it brings the bleeding. the bleeding wasn't supposed to come for you. the bleeding wasn't supposed to come for you. but it will promise all of the exit. watch the body in its healing. wash the body in its healing. a baptism of sorts. watch. as the body expands until it becomes an exit. an exodus. and now there is a new us eclipsing what once was.

people don't understand themselves enough to show that to you and you can't take that seriously or personally. gotta leave em and let em grow up on their own

you ever wake up and remember what you're capable of?

what you heal with your origin story, you heal in your present and future

the solstice full moon marks a moment where you get to witness the distance that you've traveled. the marks that your journey has left upon you can now be worn with pride. you earned these tattoos and you've got a tale to tell about them

it's hard to understand what we're capable of until we risk leaving behind what we've always known

know i gotta keep it safe

tho i'll never let it lead me stray

same time, keep a sane mind

sane mind keep a safe mine

mine mine, keep it safe

people take, i ain't never seen a sane mine

i ain't ever made sweet

i ain't ever been tamed

& i ain't afraid to let you see my teeth

too many minds

in these media land mines

we must be careful how we use our imagination

wonder how i'm always so scared of falling but never of flying

to come to realize

but to fly is to fall when the sky is the floor

he says / you are so gullible / so naive / so going to take all of this and swallow it / there's no other choice / he says be strong like the woman i know you to be / i never knew how loud he spoke / until i suffocated in his screams / he says there are many women that have raised me / to not just thank my mother / says it takes a village / says there are many ways to raise a child / you musn't be so picky / why do i ask for a number still? / i always let curiosity get the best of me / until its the worst of me / he says he still doesn't know their anniversary / says i dont remember which day she was given to me / give and take all the same / whats a date and a number to a no-name? / he says lets talk about this later / later never comes / i know all too well how these conversations weave and waver till they come undone / he says you know / what my father did to my mother / this is beyond your time / do not call this abuse / you would know abuse if you felt it / i no longer know where the line between a promise and a threat would split / he says we will never split / it's not in our culture / you have no idea what the fathers in this lineage have been through / i watch as he becomes his father now / he is his father now / his father is his father now / his father is his father now / all these missing fathers falling into abandoned parenthood / filling the void of where the word family once stood

longing seeps in her eyes / in my eyes / longing sweats from the palms / and flies around our stomachs / i drip out extend / i trip out and pretend / that it is all normal / holding memory / hold it right in front of her / longing smiles back / tries to tell me he loves me / i listen to a whisper / i hear nothing / love makes this instead / puddle / drown out a voice that goes unheard of / we never hear it but we swim in it / we swim good

let's run from / to love like that

like gentle / like too soft

like pure

like walls / full of corners

where we hide / want the kind

of love / of exhaustion

that congests homes / hoards memories

tell me / name it / her

speak her dreams & nightmares

let's run

speak with / sleep with

not hide / run from corners

to love like

like tired / like boil / like spiral / like chaos

into safety

i feel safe in rough / in the midst of your war / in the midst of your arms

love me like this

i like love like this / like fire

and we call no one / let it burn love

this is not toxic / not alarming

just gonna burn these walls to the ground

and we breathe

and we burn

and we love

maybe they'll recognize my absence. that's the goal. to leave an imprint wherever i go.

Gotta keep makin waves till the tide brings us back to the cape

the childhood shows the man / as morning shows the day

the confusion is a part of it. don't give up on yourself. see it through

clarity is coming

processing

...

braiding

...

understanding

regain your privacy

I want to roam slowly and wildly across the world without embarrassment of my place in it.

the main thing i recieved this holiday season was a hint of clarity. nothing changes your life quite like the truth

in the past year i've grown so much and also gotten so much younger.

this year has taken & added years on my life

don't need nobody new to miss

already miss so many people

have had to miss so many people cuz i had to dip on so many people

I remember the night sky after my last day at work. It was a deep Marine Blue. It smelled felt like freshly clothes without dryer sheets, it tasted like freedom, it was bitter and sweet.

I will always remember that blue and that feeling.

-kamau on MuRiN

we move some things

we shake some things

we from out of town

we don't settle down

but now i own my days

and now i own my ways

i'd rather be hungry than have a hungry soul

i hate love but in a crazy way

you know whats good

so why do you get carried away my love

just let go of sorrow

like theres no tomorrow

cuz tonight might be your last

so stay up till sunrise

wipe the tears from your eyes

leave it in the past

why love when its free and does no harm?

rhythm in the fucking bones

daddies that were never there

and grannies raised the strongest ones

so opposites attract and leave

and heartbroke in my tendencies

"" she says to me gently while wrapping the khanga around me.

"listening to the ancestors is the first step to wisdom"

whenever i wear the khanga, i feel an invincible cloak of protection. i wore it into the Moroccan cities and desserts. while driving through the driver points out that we're driving through a Berber village. the berber people are nomads. they tend to spread through the mountains and by the sea.

With the Berberi last name in my bloodline, i feel an ancestral pull to this space. it took endless questions and conversations later to uncover their original name isn't Berberi, it's Amazingh.and so the story goes, the romans came in and renamed them Berber as an insinuation of a barbaric people. and so the story goes, these are the same romans that changed my grandfathers last name from Basha to Cinari because the original was too threatening. Basha is a mayoral figure in Berber. There is a ever too frequent history of people trying to colonize native peoples because they feel threatened, and we know that story all too well. But the name remains. Amazingh by the way, means "free people". I come from a free people. what better way to approach closure but with clarity? I come from a free people. of course, i'm such a free spirit. of course, i'm always moving, pulled by the wind, the mountains, and the sea. and i got a sweet spot for a good city. i'm just living in my ancestor's wildest dreams. and so the story goes, i had to go all around the world just to find my ancestors in the mountains. the same mountains that birthed me. i come from a free people and that is the intention i move into everything with accordingly. i am the manifestation of my ancestors wildest imagination. what a blessing to bask in it and tasked with the job of being an echo for it all.

i met so many cool motherfuckers in cape town

and honestly i'm comin back a cooler motherfucker

because now i understand what is required

this year

these past few months alone

i saw/met my ancestors

i saw/met myself

i saw so many new parts of myself. healed parts i didn't even know were bruised. tended to all the wounds. got in the dirt. felt the fertilizer. freed myself. grew so much and only got younger. and then understood it runs in my ancestral bloodline. i come from a free people.

i am free.

been movin through time zones for the past 6 months. so of course when i get back, imma be movin on a different timing. new times call for new movements.

SICKO MODE is a cape town MOOD. BIG BIG MOOD.

reminds me of every lit as fuck moment/mood/ energy in cape town. daisies, on the way to, we love summer, on the way to. on the way out every night. astroworld. yours truly. waiting room. fiction. lit energy all around. a bunch of cool motherfuckers in a room all grooving to the same energy. all around the world.

cape town was me in SICKO MODE. almost at my prime type energy

i have to make it back to cape town

at 21 i went the fuck off

manifesting everything

this year will be a creative one. moving in with creative energy

fuck the money

if not now, then when?

if not me, then who?

such an emotional transition when i realize i'm not flying back to cape town. i'm going to new york. i wonder how my energy will be received. how i will be received. how it's going to be to return to the same spaces as a whole new person.

at least this i know for sure:

i am coming home anew.

i have arrived at myself, and thus, infinity.

expanding.

everything.

horizons.

hearts.

stomachs.

wings.

switched up the lens before departure/arrival

i belong in the place of my departure

i belong in the place of my destination

-cristina

i'm definitely going to miss the open and honest nature of people there.

khoza told me he loved me that first night. i wonder if he remembers that. or if he even knows he did.

tando means love

ntando means with love

practice no don't ever preach

let your practice do the preachin

feels like the life i need

now feels like the life i needs a lil distant

at least i know what it feels like so i can return to it

at departure, we were already preparing for arrival

to prepare myself for the likely huge wave of depression that may hit me when i realize i'm not in cape town anymore. and the next arrival is unknown.

to do this through discipline. self care practices (yoga once a week at least. exercise once a week at least. writing once a week at least. keep journals on me at all times. keep MY tools on me at all times. pursue projects. keep the good kind of busy not the babson kind of busy. meditate more. take time to yourself. pursue friendships deeper. always. leave the imprint you always do. move quietly but with your own purpose. let your purpose and energy guide you always.)

to process the experience for what it was and be grateful to be so blessed. in processing, to allow myself to re-live. to keep up with cape town. whether it be artists, people, bodies, articles. to surround yourself with love & adventure. to live in the moment and make it worth it while i'm in it.

BUTTERFLY EFFECT

ending song of cape town times.

for this life i cannot change

drop the top

pop it let it bang

this year is described well as butterfly effect.

life is just a maze

goin through all my phases

to touch a tongue that isn't foreign

i can't remember what that feels like

up against the wall / we don't need a title

"you are love"

-mzi

love on the brain

i experienced so much love in cape town. i was surrounded by it. engulfed in it. and so much of it came from me. an abundance from others as well. and i was being loved in the ways that i needed to be. for the first time in a while. the wind hugged me on that side of the world

and now i can depart with sooo much love on me, in me, coursing through me.

it's always good to have something amazing to part with/say goodbye to.

can we burn somethin new?

"and she fuck me and love me all in the same dose"

moving into a new space with a new rhythm.

the loves i experienced here all had a rhythm.

it is carrying me in the transition.

there's so much love in the air and that's always appreciated. misery loves company but my pack provides positivity and prosperity

#journal wrap up #freedom writing #thoughts #good energy #2018

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