#no hate no shade to anyone I just cant get into any concept that involves BJ abandoning Peg + Erin

[youngpettyqueen]

ive tried a few times now and I gotta say it. BJ Goes to Maine as a concept- the way ive seen it executed the most- really just doesnt work for me

[hedonisthierophant]

Unveiled eyes and bloodless lips -A skarsgard multiverse thing.

A universe of many Bills, a couple AHAs, and a few others.

@grandpa-sweaters You asked for fic with The Kid and instead I somehow came up with this monstrosity. I’m not sure if you’ve ever read my writing before but I’m sorry.

Dedicated to my literary soulmate @ill-skillsgard I hope you don’t hate it.

Warnings: Smut, mentions of pregnancy and childbirth, gore, spit kink, cuckoldry, degradation, injury, death.

   Unveiled eyes and bloodless lips

The witch had lost this game long before she even started playing, the final result such a foregone conclusion that it might be more accurate in fact to say she had lost before she had even been born. Forces much larger than her, to call them even titanic in scope would be an understatement, had been attending to the moves of the board since time immemorial. To say her fate such as it was had been decided back then is to grievously misstate the situation. Her exact destiny was fiercely contested on the board of play, it could’ve turned out completely differently, unfolding along anyone of the infinite myriad of paths of kismet. But her doom? That became inevitable she drew the attention of the game’s players. Naturally she remained unaware of the inescapable quality of her demise, she fought against it until the very last moment, her ferocious zeal, her skill and talent, all of it amounted to naught, For what hope does in an insect have against flood? Through no fault of her own, her perspective on this eons-long contest she had the misfortune of being prescribed to enter was…limited. In actuality the word “limited” doesn’t begin to convey the magnitude of her ignorance, imagine if you will placing your eye at a keyhole and attempting to catch a glimpse of a room darkened to pitch black. Some less astute souls might say that her involvement in the affair was rather like bringing a deaf person to the symphony but you dear reader know better, I should hope. Someone who cannot hear will have a different experience with music to be sure, but an experience they will have, the concepts on display remain within the realm of understanding. In our case a young woman became the toy of forces so far beyond her ken that she was to them as an amoeba might be to one of us beneath the prying lens of a microscope. As you may have surmised the tragedy that brings my voyeuristic audience to me unfolded slowly, spanning two lifetimes. Of course, this is only slow from the mortal point of view, to the beings that brought this about such a timeframe was less than the blink of an eye might be to us, for their machinations make glaciers seem to move with haste. Oh yes, they lack celerity but in exchange their actions carry the gravity of unquestionable certainty. However, I have indulged myself long enough. It is time that I recount, to the best of my ability the story which is brought you here today…whilst I remain able to do so.

           Her mother was possessed of a nearly singular lack of the talent that had been at the disposal to members of her family as far back as records would go. She did retain the gift of foresight. In the hands of anyone else this boon guaranteed an interesting life, if not necessarily a good one. The ability to see the future meant that so much of the world could be bent to your whim, fortunes raised, mistakes avoided, enemies destroyed before they even had the opportunity to transgress. For her mother though the only thing her visions brought was infinite sadness. She was many months pregnant you see. The result of an impetuous liaison with an excitable and impassioned thief several years who junior who quite literally stumbled into her lap, betrayed by his gangly limbs at a luxurious hotel bar he happened to be casing. He must have absconded with a waiter’s uniform for nothing about his outfit fit his exquisitely lanky form properly. Remembering the bowtie that hung limply and sideways from his collar still brings a smile to her face. The knave proclaimed she was the love of his life, his goddess and that he would devote his life to securing her happiness. It was quite a scene the tableau made certainly more…unconventional due to the fact that she was celebrating her first wedding anniversary at and sitting directly across from her husband at the time. Their marriage had been mostly a business arrangement, not entirely loveless but more cordial than intimate, but she thinks she could have grown to love him for the smirk that wound its way across his face after the blubbering young would be waiter realized his presence. She recalls watching the scene like a member of the audience at the theater, her face impassive, one brow raised. Her husband had a reputation for an incredibly violent temper, if you ever witnessed it though but she could never convince herself to entirely discredit the rumors. Both she and the scoundrel were frozen, he in fear, she in surprise. Her husband stood up, declare that their food had been awful and they were taking the waiter as recompense. Her husband, she couldn’t stand the pain that thinking his name brought even all these years later. He had made his fortune as proprietor of the “last heir to the great circuses of old, the man was a showman to his core and could have sold sin to the most pious of people. Sitting in the stands watching that man bewitch everyone around her, she certain she could’ve learned to love him had she been given more time with him. Her brother-in-law put a stop to any happy fantasies she might’ve entertained though, fratricide had a way of casting a pall over such things. Death took him from her, but that night he had been so very alive. He threw the reprobate onto their sumptuous marriage bed and ordered her in a voice that was equal parts chilling and gleeful to fuck him within an inch of his life. She did, hips canting madly as she struggled to match the thief’s exuberance for all he was worth, she was the only thing that grounded him as he shuddered through orgasm after improbable orgasm. His soulful eyes stared up at her as though she had hung the stars. After one particularly fierce climax she turned to look at her husband across the darkened room for all the while he had been orchestrating the performance as though being its sole audience member also burdened him with the role of conductor, she may have been having extraordinary sex but for all that the two of them were just  toys for her husband. He controlled them with such precision a note here,  a whisper there, advice for the two of them ghosting across the room. He was a master puppeteer, they may have lacked physical strings but that did not stop him. He ruled over them with the same exactness he employed with his beloved elephants, compelling them through routines to astound and amaze basking in the dazzled worship of the onlookers. That night though, he was taking full advantage of being the only onlooker. She still remembers the manic smile on his face and how his hair looked like flame in the moonlight spilling through the window as hysterical (euphoric) laughter echoed off the walls of their manor, as though her husband were the only one in on some wonderfully hilarious joke of cosmic proportions. Looking back on it, he may well have been. Following their final crescendo as her husband’s euphoria slowly waned into giggling, the criminal professed his love for her for the umpteenth time and begged her to come away with him to Florida, promising to dedicate the rest of his days to making her happy. His stirring gaze brimmed with imploring tears he unabashedly let fall from his eyes, his voice quavering beneath the immense wait of his need to keep her in his life. The scales she used to weigh her options were suddenly dashed as her husband took a great gasping breath, sprang up from his seated position in the sumptuous armchair he’d been occupying and began to flit around the room gathering things to him, mania rolling off him in waves. He’d hoisted the nude crook off her with little apparent effort despite being smaller than the rangy younger man. He spun him around and  slapped the sex drunk visitor’s bare ass as the man squawked in surprise and indignation, pale globes of flesh flushing an angry shade of red and leaving a print in the form of her husband’s hand at the sting. Her husband crouched for on his haunches for a moment to admire his impromptu work of art. She couldn’t see him but she could clearly picture his eyes growing wide with fascination as the mark took shape, his hands twitched with restrained desire, she could practically feel him warring with the impulse to throw him onto their marriage bed yet again, but this time for the purpose of sowing sharper and deeper blossoms of suffering across the entirety of the canvas that was the other man’s body. Disturbed smile still in place as he ground his teeth he muttered to himself in hushed tones. “No Jer, be a good boy. Almost done now, you can do it. Just gotta ape him. He straightened the conflict within him tucked away beneath the impeccable veneer of the consummate showman’s mask. “Would that I could have joined you crazy kids. I’d have loved to use all my fun little tricks on a tall glass of water like you. I’d have driven you crazy, stark raving mad really, shown you just how wild gingers can get, I’m talking showing you where the animals go.” He said with a grin that was only matched in lascivious by it’s lunacy and air of danger. She was certain the young man with the innocence and coordination of a newborn fawn would not have survived such an encounter He clapped the sex drunk young man on the back, sensually garbed him in a ludicrously expensive silken kimono, handed him a duffel bag of cash as though he had one standing by for just this occasion. That torn expression came over his face yet again, this time he surrendered to his urges. Quite suddenly he brought their lips together with the force of a devouring hunger, grinding his crotch against the other man’s leg. Judging by the surprised sound that issued from their visitor, her husband’s tongue had embarked on an enthusiastic exploration of the other man’s mouth. Then as suddenly as the whirlwind of passion had come, it stilled. He stepped back, a deranged smile lighting up his face. A single thin and determined cord of saliva still bound them together in remembrance of their embrace, her husband broke it with his middle finger, and then brought the digit to the other man’s lips. He sucked on it with a dazed expression for a moment before her husband withdrew with out warning. He clapped him on his back, said in perhaps the most jovial tone a cuckold has ever used with his competitor “I’ve always loved a good fireworks show.” and sent the befuddled young paramour on his way with a wink. The next day her husband left on “family business” to some crime on the east coast submerged seven layers deep in corruption and crime, this business ended in his demise. She remembers looking at him in the casket, smirk fixed in place as though even in death he had gotten the last laugh after all.

That had all been eight months ago exactly. Now here she was at a comfortable cruising altitude of 30,000 feet returning from a sojourn to the place where so many of her sisters had famously died along with innocents and hapless victims of circumstance. She buried her husband in the cesspool city and then communed with nature and the spirits of the sisters who came before her in Salem, now all that was left for her to do was return to her family’s modest estate in Canada and continue puzzling over the odd provision in her husband’s will for any child of hers regardless of whether that child was part of their union or not. The trouble began in earnest on that flight which should’ve been an entirely unremarkable trip from Salem to Halifax.  The first unusual occurrence was that her water broke and quite suddenly she was in the process of bringing a life into the world some 2000 stories off the ground suspended in what she’d always considered to be fragile contraptions held aloft by little more than a prayer. Her situation was odd and certainly less than ideal but not unheard of. The flight attendants rushed her to the back of the plane and by what many would like to think was a happy accident there were several members of an obstetrics team present aboard that very flight. The delivery was much more difficult than expected for the culmination of what had been by every reckoning a model pregnancy, with nary an over-enthusiastic kick. Whatever creature was inside of her head suddenly gained the claws of the most wicked of fairytale crones, and the weight of a giant every movement brought only piercing agony and precious little relief. Her screams echoed through the craft that was a dedication to mankind’s hubris as her pain intensified so too did an incredibly unforeseen bout of bad weather, the radar which just hours ago prior to takeoff had promised skies wonderful for flying was now proving itself to be a liar. It was as though passing above some insignificant little town in Maine that caused the storm spring up around them. Their vehicle was buffeted from every direction by winds and frost that were unseasonable even for harsh winter in upper North America. Around her people cursed and prayed, screamed and shouted as the pilots fought to deliver their charges to the ground in the same amount of pieces as they left it, rather than in so many more as was becoming increasingly likely. The town against all sense did have its own infinitesimally small airstrip, it wasn’t until many years later that she would begin to understand just how long ago the pieces had been set in play. As they began their harried descent people were struck by falling luggage and other debris that comes when you compress the lives of hundred people into the space of an aircraft and then turn it into a topsy-turvy. Some were killed, she even took a piece of glass to the jaw but any object that got within striking distance of the newborn child swaddled in a washcloth suddenly lost all momentum and dropped to the floor, this sort of power was most definitely beyond her she had no gift for telekinetics but she was simply too alarmed at the gravity of their situation as Earth’s own gravity began to make its power and its displeasure at having been flaunted known to the passengers. Someone with much more than was at her disposal was looking out for her daughter. And so, their airplane limped down from the sky thoroughly chastened by Zeus and his ilk for its trespass into their domain and Moira and her mother crashed into Castle Rock.

Moira and her mother had always been considered oddities by the town. Two outsiders literally cast out of the heavens and dropped into the midst of unwelcoming townsfolk. Her mother had made the best of the situation, for she had tried, made a very valiant attempt to leave this town but the moment that she crossed the boundaries she was wrapped in agony which would not abate until she took a step back into the town, this phenomenon persisted whether she tried by car or on foot and she refused to give air travel another attempt. She was no fool, she knew well that some incredible force was bent on keeping her and her daughter entrapped in this little nothing of a hamlet. She may not have had the gifts that her family had taken for granted but anyone could make rituals work with enough determination, she used her dead husband’s well to secure a small cottage on the outskirts of town for her daughter and set about turning it into a mystic fortress brimming with occult defenses. Oh the villagers looked at her askance when she went asking strange herbs or when rumors, true in this case, swirled about that she desecrated graves looking for bones or danced in the moonlight bared skin flashing as she circled her home and chanted in forgotten tongues. Castle Rock had a history with which is in their neighbor town of Salem’s Lot you see, they knew the signs even if many had forgotten precisely what they meant. When her mother realized she was potentially in the territory of other practitioners her theory became that a powerful coven existed here and they wanted her for as of yet unknown reasons, but the more she doubt the more it seemed that any true coven had long since died out or moved on to more fitting pastures. The occult in community the town consisted of one or two charlatans, and a few like herself with barely an iota of true power between them, capable of little more than the simplest cantrips, certainly not the massive feats of magic required to both down and trap her here. The first night she performed a ritual of crying beseeching a cracked bowl she’d stolen from the motel to connect her with her mother. Her family had always been a nest of vipers they were immune to their own poison but that did not stop the backstabbing that took place as soon as one was no longer able to defend oneself. Her mother made it clear imperious tones bringing out into the forest and stirring the leaves although in truth she was many miles away, that by allowing herself to be brought low and trapped in a backwater with even a lesser one of her families grimoires by unknown parties she had shamed the family and would be forgotten. They would not come to her aid. Cast out of the one coven she had known since birth she went about forming a tighter knit one as its replacement. She had asked the two charlatans out of town and gathered those with inklings of true power to her, she lacked her family’s innate command of the mystic arts, but her deficit had made her a master ritualist. And so she doled out their precious secrets to a few peasants in this town and made herself a new family. With helpers at her disposal she was able to enact more complex magic and had soon carved out a niche for herself and her followers as the area’s sole authority on matters of the arcane. People flocked to see her from all corners of the continent and a few from even further. She didn’t doubt that her mother, the rest of her family and their retainers were trying their best to end her life but as the years went by it occurred to her that whatever was keeping her here was also keeping her alive, the town seemed to repel anything more than passing outside influences and her family feared to enter its boundaries and become trapped themselves, better to let whatever invisible enemy had brought her there finish her off eventually. Their judgment proved correct.

Moira was an unusual soul, daughter of the town witch and perpetually mistrusted. Despite all that she had a sunny demeanor and those that matter couldn’t help but be charmed by her. For as long as she could remember her mother had forced her, even as a barely aware child to partake in odd rituals, from filling purple gossamer bags of strange herbs sends unknown objects and placing them in various spots throughout the house to keeping a bowl of water by the door and flicking a drop against the wood once it was shut to bathing in oils and strange concoctions by the light of the moon. She did all this because as she told Moira “Something was out to get them.” Moira always found it odd that her mother chose to say something as opposed to someone. Moira had always dreamed of being a doctor but her mother forbid her to leave town for any reason and although she could not explain why to herself even after all these years she’d never even thought of disobeying that particular rule. Her few friends in town and her mother concurred that she would’ve made a brilliant doctor but in a town like Castle Rock the closest she could manage was to be a nursing assistant at the local prison. Some days she bemoaned her life stuck in this little town, so small that it did not even merit a dot on most maps of the area. But she would gather up her natural cheer, take her sketchpad and pencil, sit in the park and draw on those days. Since Moira began drawing she’d been a prodigy, but even from earliest childhood when one has no attention span to speak of after she would dally with the subject and that she would return always to her first. A pair of haunting blue-green eyes, a slightly upturned nose, and your whispering pair of lips, cracked and dry, parched even to the drawings one got the impression that no words passed between them for a long time. The drawings of course worried her mother but try as she might she could puzzle out no theories as to their significance, the last time she’d tried describing ritual on the mysterious subject her bowl had been gripped by a powerful kinetic force shattered from the inside out embedding pieces of cheap ceramic into the wall around her and a few into her body as water that had been cool and tranquil moments earlier became scalding and improbably rose up to splash her in the face. It was then she decided that the drawings were out of her power.

Whenever she was outside of her house Moira always felt the faintest buzzing against her skull, the local doctor had considered it a prodromal symptom of a migraine, but the element never progressed beyond an irritating sound. Until the day she disobeyed one of her mother’s rules. She always looked forward to Fridays, it meant that she have the weekend to draw, but more importantly she would get to see Adrian. Adrian she suspected, that been an enigma from the moment he was born. A Scandinavian street rat with far too much charm and intelligence for his own good and somehow grifted his way across the Atlantic and ended up in her life riding a steed of criminal charges for allegedly attempting to traffic young women across the border. Adrian claimed he had been trying to rescue them and the promised jury of his “peers” such as it was appeared to have bought that story, but Adrian could sell water to a drowning man. Even Moira was unsure what the truth of the matter was. Still Adrian was a charmer, and incorrigible flirt and she had fun bantering with him, although when she asked about his plans his thoughts always turned to getting out and making enough money to support his little boy. About a month ago, Adrian had complained of awful whispering noises splitting his skull during the day while Moira was not on shift. She walked into his cell the later at the start of the graveyard shift and found him sitting as though he were a wounded lion whose legs had been caught in a trap, through his quick pained breaths he greeted her in a melodious accent that was related to but unlike Adrian’s own. She saw that his legs were twisted, broken and fractured at various intervals as though someone had taken a chisel up and down the length of bone within his limbs. No one at the prison could explain the origin of his injuries and beyond a cursory visit from the institution’s uncaring physician no one tried to. As long as word did not escape these walls no one cared, Moira had thought about telling but who was there to tell? How did one even begin to do that? She’d never even left this town once in her twenty-something years. He been an able-bodied, athletic young man at lights out, and had awoken as…

“A cripple! I am but a poor humble cripple and I throw myself on your mercy, my dear sweet Moria. How must I abase myself before you to obtain another of these wonderful puddings? I am willing to do quite a lot, to serve…no that’s not quite the right word, oh your language is so silly…Service! I am willing to service you in oh so many ways!” He said in his singsong voice, appearing quite proud of himself for hunting down his lexical quarry. He he had used the provided spoon merely  an implement to tear the thin film of plastic keeping him from his prize, flung it away and for lack of a better descriptor… began preforming cunnilingus on the pudding pouch in his hand, his performance was complete with moans and groans and little contented sighs. All the while never breaking eye contact with her, blue orbs burning into her own filled with indecent proposals. Unwilling to tolerate his antics anymore she snatched the offending pudding cup from his grasp, for the shadow of an instant she could have sworn a terrible look of feral rage had flashed across his countenance but it was gone before Moira could register whether or not it ever truly been there. “I am so terribly sorry dear Moira for my offense, it is just that in my day, we did not have such…culinary delights. He’d slowed to get the word “culinary” out properly but hadn’t stumbled and looked satisfied. In his day, that was the other thing, in the month since Adrian awoken the entire prison wailing about whispering in his cell, according to the doctors he developed a dis-associative identity. The young man that now occupied the cell which officially belonged to Adrian, called himself Ivar Lothbrok. He had been doing his best to convince Moira that he was the spirit of a long dead Viking who had for reasons unknown even to himself woken up in a body that was so similar to his own that it had frightened even him. The prison psychiatrist couldn’t have cared less about the situation in that cell, but to Moira it was quite the engaging mystery.

Today Moira decided to challenge him. “If you really aren’t Adrian, prove it if you’re not him then your innocent of the crimes that got him put in here and you should be angry, you should want out.” The smile that split the face in front of her should have been a warning. “I may be innocent of his petty crime dealing in flesh and weird…potions,” Moira decided to let the odd word choice go to spare his pride. “But I have killed and maimed, and lied,  and stolen, and coveted many times over. You’re correct though, I do want out of the cell but for the moment I’m right where I want to be.” Moira, ever quizzical couldn’t stop herself from asking “Why do you want to be here?” “Because here is where you are.” he said as if he were speaking to the dullest child in all the world. “I will indulge you however, I am not Adrian, Adrian had pure wholesome thoughts about you, he was going to be free, tell you that he wanted you to be his little boy’s mother, beg you to start a family and run away with him to whatever little speck of a town he found someone foolish enough to care for the child while he was here. He’d have trafficked poison and flesh slaves or slaughtered swine for the rest of his days for you. He used to touch himself here in the dark fantasize about reaching through the bars of the cage and touching your skin, used to dream of having pure loving sex with you on a blanket by fjords illuminated only by the stars and the moon, lest he seemed to greedy to want to see you in all your glory. He wanted to fill your cunt with his seed over any over until the two of you made a brother or sister for precious little Patrick. One big happy family.” He spat out the infant’s name like a curse most vile, and treated the world family as though it was unconscionable poison on his tongue. She took a breath intending to halt whatever sick game he was playing, but the moment she drew breath and opened her mouth his eyes blazed with danger. “Keep your tongue behind your teeth if you wish to keep it all wench!” He roared. “You asked for this, now you will listen. I am not Adrian because never in his wildest dreams would he have contemplated the fantasy of using your uniform to tie you down and spitting on your face over and over forcing you to swallow what you could, and what you couldn’t would slide down between those perfect breasts of yours and they would glisten as I played with them, sucked and bit until they were raw, then I would have kept spitting until your cunt was drenched from the inside out, I would have laid siege to it like it was my traitor brother’s last stronghold. Oh, the sounds and squeals I would have pulled from you. I would have lavished you with my tongue and fingers, bit and sucked and twisted and slapped and pulled and made you come over and over again until you understood what it is to be ravished by a god!” He broke off into a fit of chuckling then capped with a wistful sigh. “But alas all that is denied to me, and indeed you, for you belong to someone else, and as sweet as you would be, you are not worth the effort of challenging his claim.” He stated this with such nonchalance that it broke the terrible spell that she had been under and she fled the prison with eyes burning and tears streaming.

Ivar smiled as she fled, finally, finally. he was one step closer to being free of this accursed in-between place, he was getting home to his beloved Eira and their little girl. Or perhaps another sojourn through life with his healer who had the body of a tower. Or maybe he’d meet that lippy little puppy of an entitled young man in Pennsylvania again who secretly craved discipline. Whatever happened he would be home again, nothing would stop him.

In her haste, she entered her home, ran to her bedroom and threw herself down on the bed without observing her mother’s rules. Had she been paying more attention she would’ve noticed that the water in the bowl she was supposed to flick at the door suddenly evaporated and the gossamer bags filled with protective elements suddenly caught flame and turned to ash in moments. It was then that she heard his voice. “Please don’t cry. I’m here now, it’ll be alright.” His tone was nearly plaintive. She didn’t bother setting up she knew that the voice came from no place within her home. “I’ve been waiting…eternities for you Moria,” He whispered inside her skull. “Let me make you feel better.” There was a hand stroking her face. Her eyes shot open and she beheld a figure that was both present and absent, there was wait to him but light seemed to pass through him through him as though he was merely a projection. Even trapped in the in between as he was, he was gorgeous. Her angel. A completely bare towering figure with the chest and leg and back and ass seemingly having been sculpted from the highest quality marble by da Vinci himself, with cheekbones that could reduce adamantine diamonds to dust, with lustrous hair and sinfully plump and pillowy lips. His eyes, so soulful that she believed he had lived a thousand lifetimes, she realized she’d been drawing this face for as long as she could remember. To feel his touch was to experience euphoria. He kissed her and all her senses were expanded beyond human potential, she saw a kaleidoscope of colors behind her eyes, he smelled and tasted of every single enticing thing at once but instead of a riotous discord of scents and flavors, they were balanced in perfect harmony. His voice alone could reduce her bones to jelly in a way that would make Ivar fear she intended to stake a claim to his epithet. He worshiped her with his entire being, fingers and hands and tongue and colossal endowment yes, but in the midst of their lovemaking she was certain that their spirits were melding even more intensely than their bodies. He spat upon her face one and she felt as though she were being anointed in holy oil by a deity. He scored her flesh with his sharp straight teeth the color of shining bone, drew blood, and she was happy to give it. His enormous hand encircled her throat closed her airway and if she hadn’t already been experiencing what she thought might be Nirvana, the oxygen deprivation would’ve taken her there. After fucking her through more than 20 orgasms and claiming all her orifices for his own each first with the gentle fervor of a virginal lover at the end of an idyllic courtship and then with a harsh brutality as though fucking her two within an inch of her life was the only way he could properly express the hatred for her that filled his entire alien being. He finally unburdened himself of his seed deep inside her and sighed contentedly .

When she awoke after their tryst, he was seated in a chair opposite her bed dressed in a suit and other finery looking for all the world like a high-powered professional instead of some cosmic entity to take an interest in her. He then told her of the tragedy of Henry Deaver, how a Titanic battle with his wife over his infidelity with a young woman he had met at a business engagement led to him driving fueled by rage and sadness while rain pounded the car and obscured his vision, he’d crashed into the lake and been thrown into a myriad of alternate realities, “other heres and nows where the dominos fell in different patterns. His stories of lives spent with Charlotte, Oliver, Westly, as a professor, a soldier from West Virginia, a bounty hunter who fought for his life in a dystopia, the life he’d almost lived of a Viking, a philanderer with a beer-based pick-up strategy, a gangster, the searching for true love based on a scientific assessment ,they all brought tears to her eyes. He entreated her with every fiber of his being to free him from his cage and put an end to his cycle of loneliness, to save him and others trapped in this limbo. She swore to do it.

That was the day the matriarch without a clan descended on the prison, her chariot of choice, a limousine flanked by a motorcade of four SUVs each bearing the insignia of an elite private security firm denigrated the world over for unsavory activities, their detractors though couldn’t question their effectiveness. She and the battalion she paid for advanced through the prison like a storm, the guards normally employed were deferential and out of their depth. The only sounds echoing through the prison with a click of her heels and the thuds of the jackboots that accompanied her for she had brought silence to the prison with her mere presence. Moira had heard of her, the interim controller of a ludicrously wealthy and secretive biotech firm following the scandalous disappearance of her son and heir. Allegedly, the young man whom the newspapers referred to as the Brat Prince had somehow veered off the course of normally accepted philandering ways among the ultrarich and powerful and become involved with someone his mother deemed unacceptable. The matriarch had come because the vast network of informants that she plied with riches and sharp promises had imparted to her knowledge of a prisoner found here who almost matched her son’s description. The only thing he had left behind was a wheelchair covered in the blood of its owner, a crippled faggot whom he had dared to take for a lover. He would pay for his insolence, for the damage down to her reputation and company, she would break this mysterious prisoner and learn all that he knew, she swore it. When she reached his unusual cell a young woman in scrubs was fumbling with the keys, her son’s face taken on a different path through destiny than the one she knew stared back at her. He spoke to her in an antiquated dialect of that language from the Balkans she had left behind so many mortal lifetimes ago, she was not that frightened, trusting girl from Wallachia anymore, she nearly charged the cage to make him pay for daring to address her this way, but the meaning of his words stilled her. “Madame Olivia, I believe we can be of help to one another once this insect has served its purpose.” Moria broke the lock.

He nuzzled into her touch aching a contented sound as she ran her hands through his hair, it had been eons since he felt the touch of another, his eyelashes fluttered and tears swam in his eyes, he would allow himself this one indulgence. “Loyal Moria, you have played your part well and in appreciation I give you the greatest of gifts, the fulfillment of your destiny.” When he spoke it was with the voice of 100 different people at once both cacophonous and whisper quiet. She screamed as his lips brushed her forehead, for this feather-light touch broke everything inside of her all at once. She fell as her skin froze and burned all at once, her muscles liquefied and her bones turned to jelly, her ears, nose, and eyes ran with blood, then her eyes began to boil in their sockets fluids running down into her still shrieking mouth as her body contorted it this way and that trying desperately to contend with suffering that was beyond human comprehension.

The last thing she saw before death mercifully claimed her were a pair of unveiled eyes atop bloodless lips, her final sight was one she had been drawing her entire life.

As the wretch finally had the good sense to expire Olivia Godfrey watched as the death seemed to fill out the prisoner’s gaunt and wan features until she could almost confuse him for an older version of her son. He drew in a deep breath, stooped to kiss her hand and issued a request, eyes glittering with dark promise: “Take me to Derry.”

[eidoleane-g]

HOW TO TRAIN YOUR DRAGON 3... sort of review.

This is sort of my first ever review on anything at all on my tumblr blog, and i just have a lot of feelings to talk about How to Train Your Dragon 3. 

So i watched HTTYD3 and I’ve got say, I had a lot of feelings about this movie. Some parts of the movie were my absolute favorite that i couldn't stop squealing in joy for because it was so amazing and lovely and the whole team made a great job of it. 

Lets talk about what I found not so amazing in the movie. And i have spoilers, so those that haven't watched the movie yet. stop reading this now, because i will need to go into details about it. For warning that I have not read any of the HTTYD book series and I’m not sure if anything i comment here in my dislike might be canon in the series itself. But i’m happy for anyone to point me out on that. 

When i first saw the trailer of HTTYD3, i was so excited. HTTYD2 was one of my absolute favorite animation movie of all time and I still think that they should have won the Oscars for Best Animated Feature and instead of Big Hero 6. It was everything and more than what the first movie gave and the bar that they set was so high in standards. There was romance (my absolute favorite), adventure, death and love lost and found and they paced it all so super well, that i was hoping the same for this. Alas, they didn’t quite reached what they had set out to do. 

First thing that i didn’t really feel real excitement was the introduction to the female night fury. WHAT WAS THAT???? oh my god. I just couldn't believe that the team behind it was like we gonna make a white night fury. WHAT? have they not realized why in doing that would defeat the purpose of naming it a Night Fury???? It is a dragon that preys in the NIGHT!!!!. That’s what makes it deadly and dangerous because no one has ever seen what one had looked like before Toothless. Why in the world would you make one in WHITE!!!!, when they can be so easily killed in the goddamn night. This would probably make more sense about why all the other night furies have gone extinct because all the female have been killed because they kept flying in the night where they are shot very easily because they are so WHITE. and now none of the male night furies can procreate and have babies and that is why they all have gone extinct except for Toothless.  I didn't have a problem with a female night fury, it was fine. But it looked like an sickly albino dragon that it didn't really settle with me and i didn't like her one bit throughout the movie. It would have been incredible if they had made the female night fury the same color as Toothless, but in a lighter shade. that way we still tell apart the female night fury. they could have played around with the features of the female night fury to show how it distinguishes from the male. It was already so obvious in the movie that Toothless has green eyes and the female night Fury has blue eyes. It would have been enough to tell the two apart without completely altering the very essential design of the Night Fury. 

I don't know why but I think that the writers might have made the original concept of the female night fury pink and they probably thought like we couldn't work with that because it’d be too obvious and decided to make it white instead that way the children could still see the female from the male, but not make it too obvious. They do realize that children are not that dumb right. I understand that it is in the premise of an animated film aimed at children, but they cant have thought that children are that dumb that they can’t even tell apart a male and female dragon. More than anything children pick this kind of things up really quickly because they are bright enough to understand. Children can tell them apart from the features alone. Already this is going on too long. Yeah i just didn’t really like the whole white albino night fury thing.

Next was the villain, i don’t know man. The villain just seem like a cardboard cut of like a stereotypical villain. the only reason he wants to kill dragons is because when he killed a Night Fury when he was a kid, everyone in his village sort of worshiped him as a God. Like his motivation to killing dragons are for self-gratifications?  You’ve already established a good, complex, and well-developed villain in the second movie, why the need for the same thing in this one? If you are creating this movie as a sort of finale to the trilogy, they could’ve made it end in similar to how the first movie began. The first movie began with the issues of dragons and it could have ended with the issues concerning dragons again, there was no need for a villain at all in this movie. The first movie was really well developed in the conflict where Hiccup faced it in his father and the viking community. it showed how Hiccup believed in dragons being their equal and he wants to show that to his father who opposes that very union. It felt personal and amazing and made a great story. The second movie had a proper villain where the bad guy wants to eradicate dragons because of a personal history of something happening to him because of the dragons and fueled by the disgrace from the vikings themselves. His anger fueled his goals and we saw where it took him. He was almost a sociopath in that sense and the conflict that ensued between Hiccup and the villain was the climax of the movie and was made incredibly well. Because we understand his motivations and why he is doing the things he is doing, we understand where his coming from.

i just don’t understand the villain in this one. It was like he was just put in there so that they had something to progress the story or one even remotely resembling a plot. the villain’s motivation felt weak at best and i cant even remember what his goddamn name was. That is how much of an impact he made in the movie. It felt like a flimsy attempt at having to recycle the same plot and idea from the second movie except that instead of fighting for their place, this time they run away with the dragons just to keep them safe. the thing was that the story could have progressed even without the villain’s involvement. Honestly i would have enjoyed it far more had there not been a villain in this one but simply an issue that Hiccup faced with the dragon overpopulation at the village. That would have given a great story and made more sense. 

the worst of the whole movie, that made really want to storm out of the cinema, was Toothless romance in this thing. i absolutely hated it. I HATED THIS!!!!!. Oh my god, it was so bad and i don’t know how much more i can emphasize that this was the one thing that completely ruined the whole movie for me. I already hated the whole albino night fur thing and this just made it worse by tenfold. The story about HTTYD has always been about Hiccup and Toothless relationship and how much they have grown to love and form a bond with each other. This movie had barely any sort of hint on that. There was a little bit of it here and there but honestly you don’t see any of it in this movie. Suddenly it had become a romantic comedy, where Toothless the hopeless romantic is trying to get the unattainable female Night Fury with the help Hiccup his ultimate wing-man. I was just speechless, i couldn't even began to understand what was the whole point in giving the dragon of all things a romantic interest. i just hated it straight out. Like completely. The whole middle chunk of the movie was just a blur to me and i just wanted it to end so badly.

And what really made me furious in this whole thing. Like this was the major i wanted to chuck the popcorn on the movie screen kind of furious. Was that in the end, Toothless left Hiccup to go start a goddamn married life with the fucking albino dragon. I was just so mad. it made me so furious. I couldn't even, I would have left the cinema if i had not payed the ticket to watch this nonsense. Are you telling me that Toothless who risked his life again and again to rescue the boy that the he truly loved and considers his best friend to start a new one with that goddamn albino thing. Like WHAT THE HECK???!!!!!. WHO WROTE THIS???!!! WHO LET THEM KEEP THIS STUPID STORY IN THE MOVIE????!!!! WHY WOULD YOU RUIN A PERFECTLY GOOD MOVIE WITH THIS NONSENSE!!!!???? This movie is basically the Cursed Child of the Harry Potter Universe. People would like to forgot that this thing even existed. This movie is the the Cursed Child of How to Train Your Dragon saga. I would be far more happier thinking that this movie doesn’t exist at all. I’m happy to live with the first two movies instead of this rubbish.

I understand that the part of the theme of the movie was that Toothless was the mirror image of Hiccup. That they both grow up to be almost the same, one being a dragon and one being a viking. In the first movie, it was apparent that they were both fighting against their own kind to protect one another. Hiccup with his dad and the vikings, Toothless with the harmful dragons and that giant-ass queen dragon. This was shown again when Toothless lost a leg in the final fight with the queen dragon as how Toothless lost one of his tail glider (at least i think this was what it was) to Hiccup, a viking. It showed them both to be equal which was what the movie was about. In the second movie, it came about Hiccup taking over from his father as chief of the vikings. After the death of his father, Hiccup was suddenly thrown into it and had to step up to being chief. This was later mirrored into the fight between Toothless and the Alpha. Toothless became the Alpha once he defeated the previous one and they both became leaders of their kind. This was also a good parallel. 

But this movie was just fucking nonsense. I already knew this movie was going to be about Astrid and Hiccup talking about marriage or at least a conversation about it, This was fine. It was fine for the last 2 movie and it was fine in this one too. because we have already established this amazing relationship between Astrid and Hiccup. But why the heck would you want to have the same parallel of this thing with Toothless, a dragon? It’s a goddamn dragon, it doesn't need a fucking romance story. this was literally where it went downhill for me. The whole Toothless motivation was just motivated with him wanting to mate with the albino the whole way through. I’m not lying guys this was what took place for a good hour in the movie and i hated it. Completely hated it. There was barely anything of a hint of real emotion or love between Hiccup and Toothless. This movie was basically Hiccup trying to please Toothless by helping his get the female Night Fury because Toothless was throwing a fucking tantrum about it. That literally what it was about. He just gave in and said that it was okay for Toothless to leave him because of the fucking albino. I do not believe that you would make 2 whole movies establishing this great relationship between Hiccup and Toothless just to end up for Toothless getting laid and starting a family and Hiccup just letting that happen and doing the same. I do not believe that. I do not believe that any of this characters would be motivated or would have done the things that they done in this movie at all. This whole movie was just flimsy attempt at a story that was just barely developed. The entire motivation of the main characters and villains just seem flimsy at best or just downright wrong. It’s like a bad rendering of a fan-fiction.

The most ridiculous thing of the whole movie was the Hidden World. We don’t get anything more than a 5-minutes fly over of Hiccup and Astrid there. Like why would they even name the movie after this Hidden World if you are not even going to show us more than 5 minutes of it. What was even the point of having the Hidden World if you are not going to help us understand or even establish what it is about.?  I wanted more, i wanted to learn its origins, what was there, how did it get hidden, how the dragons found the home there everything. I was really disappointed by this.

The whole movie could have gone in a very good direction because there was already a good story in it that no one even seemed to attempt to want to develop it and instead was so focused on this romantic nonsense between the dragons. The vikings and Hiccup were facing a problem of overpopulation of the dragons in their village, This was good. There is an issue. Hiccup could have been like, “ Uh, guys, the dragons are overcrowding our homes we don’t have any place to stay, we need to get a bigger village. This is good, OK we move one. One day, there was an attempted attack on the village, just some random person. There was no need for an established villain at all. Then Hiccup grows concern for the safety of both the dragons and the vikings. Living in this overcrowded place is proving to be impossible and it is creating a bigger target on the dragons. There was only a handful of them to actually protect the village and the dragons at the same time. Hence why they move, they move to find  better home for the dragons and themselves, - the Hidden World - instead of them running away from the villain.

So far good. The one day, when they settle at some place, Hiccup and Toothless comes across another night fury, it didn't even need to be a female, just another night fury and it would have been fine.This would mean  that Toothless wasn't the last of his kind and there is maybe more Night Furies here or maybe a family of them. See how the story could have progressed even without a female Night Fury. There didn't even need to be any fucking romance at all and it would have been a really good story. And we get to see that Toothless and Hiccup going in search for the other Night Fury and they come across a whole nest of them and Toothless is so happy and excited. This is the first time he is seeing another of his kind and there he feels like he finally belongs to a family. But the other Night Furies seeing Hiccup would have attacked him, and Toothless coming to his defense. The other dragons are confused as to why Toothless is protecting this human, when human and dragons are each others natural enemies. So in the end they leave the place, with a heavy heart and Toothless being sad. And Hiccup deciding that it was time that Toothless see the other dragons on his own and gives him the new tail that allows him the freedom to fly on his own without a rider. 

This would have been a far better developed plot for the movie. It would have been the idea of granting Toothless his freedom. This would have tied the theme of the movie so brilliantly, which had always been freedom. Freedom to live, freedom to choose who you love, freedom to be who we are meant to be. And it would have also tied in to mythology of what it means to be a dragon. Dragons are these mighty beasts of the sky and what means more than anything to them is their freedom to be free and fly. Toothless discovering the family would have meant that he was finally granted the freedom to fly on his own. And more than anything he wants to be with his own kind. And here is where we could have shown the parallel image of how it ties back to the both of them again. Toothless wanting to be his own kind but also not wanting to leave Hiccup yet, and Hiccup, even though granting Toothless his freedom is still not ready to let him go yet. This would have been a brilliant way to show conflict and issue between the both and the love they have for each other. And this would have even brought the movie to a full circle to how it began, with vikings and dragons being two different people and the idea of how they were going to be together. This would have made a great emotional impact, the love between Toothless and Hiccup of how Toothless loves Hiccup but he craves to be with the family he just discovered and how Hiccup loves Toothless enough to grant him the freedom to choose where he wanted to be. See how good the movie could have been if they just never had the stupid romance at all. 

This conflict could have been the highlight of the movie and how they were going to overcome these issues. Then also showing that when Toothless finding his family, he also finds the Hidden World, and we finally get to see the whole Hidden World from Toothless’s eyes and we get and understanding of the place. This would have been a brilliant way to give us the view of what the Hidden World was like. Once this is done, and we see Toothless being happy and excited to be with the rest of his kind, we get to the climax of the story. The same person who earlier attacked the village, could have followed Toothless to the Hidden World and have captured the dragons and Toothless tries to rescue them, but he couldn’t, so that he flies back to Hiccup and they together go back to rescue the dragons and they do eventually. The other Night Furies soon sees that Hiccup is not such a bad guys and they stop attacking him and here would be the big finale where they both have to make a decision. The Other Night Furies welcome Toothless to live with them in the Hidden World and to every other dragon from Berk that wants to.  

Toothless and Hiccup have a moment and Hiccup being Hiccup would have granted Toothless the freedom to go and live with his family, knowing that he might not ever see him again. And it breaks Hiccup’s heart to make this choice but he knows that this is the right thing to do. And so Toothless leaves Hiccup to go to the Hidden World with the rest of the Night Furies with the other dragons. Astrid is there to hold Hiccup when they say goodbye to the dragons. Then we get to the wedding scene and Hiccup and Astrid gets married and Hiccup seems to be sorely missing Toothless and they both look over to the horizon and there out of nowhere coming towards them is none other than Toothless. Hiccup doesn't understand why Toothless was back, wasn't he leaving to live with the other dragons, but no some of them do return to the vikings. This would have given me all the feels and it would have been such a perfect way of ending the movie. The idea that Toothless now knows that he is not the last of his kind, and that there is family out there for him and they will always be there for him to welcome him. But to Toothless, family had always been Hiccup and that is why he returned to his true family. 

This could have been such an incredible movie. simple and good and not overly complicated. this would have been the perfect story for all of them. And just it would have been so lovely and bittersweet and just good. But instead what we got was a Cursed Child parody. And i am just really sad about this.

Yeah so basically i hated at least 75% of the movie. 

But there were some things that i really liked. i really loved the concept art of the characters. Those dragon scaled armors were one of my favorite things in the entire movie. The characters looks were amazing. the visual concept and looks were amazing. The whole environment art and concept were great. What i really really loved about this movie was the relationship between Astrid and Hiccup. Their relationship was some of the best romance that had been portrayed in any kind of film that i have seen and really loved. From the 1st movie till the 3rd one, their relationship has been one of the strongest suit in the entire movie. The love that they portray in the film is such a kind love, very subtle but it speaks volume. Also, that they aren’t so completely in love with each other that everything else is blind to them. Instead they are each their own individual and they complement each other instead of being each other's half like it is portrayed in so many romances. They each have so much good personality within them that they don’t drown each other but lift each other up and that’s what makes the both of them such a strong couple. The most pleasure that i had in the entire movie is their wedding. Oh my god, i almost cried and it was amazing and perfect and everything i love and pictured for them. 

i was alright with them having kids and all i wasn't really that excited about it, it would have been great to leave at the wedding itself, but it wasn't really something that needed to be there, but i really didn't think it was much of a complain. The one thing that i really made me sad about the movie was that, i don’t believe that Toothless would have left Hiccup for a goddamn albino dragon, he can do so such much better. but the fact that Hiccup’s children would grow up not knowing Toothless and or any of the great relationship between Hiccup and Toothless was what made me really sad about this whole. Because i truly believed that Toothless would not have behaved as he did in this movie and he would not have left Hiccup and Hiccup would not have just given in to Toothless’s tantrums as he did in this movie. It was really sad and disappointing.  

But yeah, so that was my review on the movie and mostly me ranting about my feelings for this movie. I’m also assuming that someone might have reached all the way down here and have had a good read. to which i am entirely grateful to.

So cheers.

[castlehead]

makeshift feels from the opinion lab

kafka wrote in a journal urhmherm of being limited to prague, then his room, then his bed, then nothing at all. to be limited at last to nothing at all. well. turns out i guess the most kafkaesque sentiment came from franz kafka.

enjoi ya rickety gethsemane while it is still to be dreamed, young writers, young writers of youth.

after a job on a hot day back in april or may or something i started listening to this while walking out of the truck towards the gas station convenience store and abruptly pivoted away from the sliding doors to sneak around the side and weep near the green fencing around some boilers. it occurred to me how little i could ever forgive myself for doing.

the shit ive done, all of it, i havent forgiven myself. if i did it and it was bad, or even meagre, dumb, really no big deal, bet yr ass it still keeps me from thinking i deserve happiness. i do not forgive myself for anything ive ever done. no deed is too temporal to etch itself cleanly into my head as something unforgivable, if only it makes a small point.

i know this is true because no joy i ever feel is felt fully, because i do not think it is deserved; and because i allow myself to be joyous only when i think of the truth of my unforgiven, unforgivable state. never to be. Never will.

and that is what is depression.

There must be something here, in me. Here where the jackals caterwAul Like streetcats Mewing their gizzard After this night’s heat, What’ll it be Jackals, Buzz off, shit man

i feel like the key to life is knowing that 90 percent of anxiety & depression, either in degree or in its truth, and at least somewhere not wracked by war, is unsubstantiated (the ten percent being actual crises, like fear of violence, a death in the family, etc). The problem is how persuasive these feelings can be that lead to the fulfillment of the very fear or solidifying the reason for being depressed. But with positive feelings, the least thing, whether true or no, can always be rewarding. A bit of happiness must be allowed to be felt, indiscriminately, because it is more useful to us than a bit of sadness. Take the fierce dialectic u use to establish a depressing ‘truth’ and persuade yourself of something good. If one is far fetched, let it be the something bad. Until it happens, after all, all of it remains in your head, to do with what u will.

You don’t get to lower taxes on the rich and gut social services at the same time. The reason social services are in place is to provide a fair shake for john q public. Mostly investors are feeling the benefits of the corporate tax cut. They’re not giving the money towards a better product that would help the people. but one day there will be no sesame seeds on the bun of yr Big Mac and you’ll wonder how that’s possible with an entire sesame seed dept that just got a pay raise.

tax reform should be done to help a free market, so that the rich can be poor and the poor rich. Taxation helps the people so that social services become less necessary. Social services were developed because the percentage of taxation was unequal between higher and lower class. Poor folks felt the pain while rich folks shrugged it off.

Thats why I say you can’t do both: social services are a protection against the world being entirely controlled, if it’s not already, by those from the very swamp this president wants to drain. T**** hasn’t drained shit.

i feel like writing takes over for your thought process. You can’t think and write at the same time, or something. something turns off or it switches where it’s doing the shit it’s doing to a different place, like yr hands. I don’t think you can write down one linear thought with another thought being thought in your head. This is why people say their mind goes blank in extended periods of inspiration. The functioning has gone from being untethered and temporal, ie wandering thoughts, notions, speculating, to being possessed in a focused place, ie yr hands, which usually leads to a more focused expression of perhaps a thought of particular value, enough in the first place to require writing down. But tho this can be easy for some talented people, who might, as Joyce said, polish their nails while writing some genius thing, what does not come easy for anybody, because it is imposssible, is thinking two disparate things, of the everyday and of some behemoth philosophic concept, for example, without either one taken place after or before; or, one of them being intermittently disturbed, tho linearly, by the other, like a notification on yr phone- until at last one of the two breaks down, and the foxus superseded by the one left. This is especially novel. One thinks; one does not think and also think. That would make it two people in one head. Therefore we can presume that ones identity is found in the unity, or internal focus, of their story in thoughts down one narrow wire: thought can cross many paths and examine everything under and beyond th sun, but per person it is still in the singular. It cannot divide into two simultaneous paths of equal focus. there can be multilayered thoughts with a similar core concept behind them, and these can be thought simultaneously as much as one can ante up and dole out shades of emotion and shades of thought, and so on. But I cannot think of a teleological explanation for all creation and with the same focus Apply myself to letters in the mail. There is a dominant voice, and the rest, the mundane voice, is seen thru that lens.

ya cant say yr colorblind then gripe about people hatin ya cuz u r white. contradiction of terms no? if you really didnt see color, ud say people hated yr ass because yr a damnfool entrylevel, grunt-ass lowbrow. not because of the color of ya skin, which ya recognized and put to the forefront in making that very statement.

feel like uh, a priori is not intuition alone. Intuition is a function of the mind, while a priori is, if I understand Kant correctly, a representation synthesized before there is an object of focus available for the senses to interpret, ie an essentially true conclusion drawn, that has no need for a combined manifold, as, Kant tells us, is offered by merely living in space and time: time to extend and progress from cause to effect to cause, and space to do it in. In other words, intuition is cognitive- psychological, and a priori, theoretical- logical.

Pathos is the one thing most divine about people, for i see that in my worst state I can still grieve for the savaging of life’s last hope, and be uplifted, feel tears, at least for a little blessed while. There is no state so low that does not inspire one to at least pity themselves, and feel the comfort of passions, however mistaken or wretched the person.

i feel that / Some subjects do not even allow to be proved through the scientific method, yet they are still issues of a scientific nature and not just mysticism. the line is very thin however, since usually these subjects devolve into mysticism. In fact, if science only worked with that which could be proven, from the outset or otherwise, we’d have a pretty limited roster of discoveries. Sometimes discoveries can be made along the way towards proving; sometimes, discoveries can be made, scientifically, thru means that for lack of anything better, are entirely theoretical. And sometimes the search is not to prove something true but to clarify something. Science is not out to be incontrovertible.

The man in mismatched sox inhaled not as deeply as he would have liked at such a crescendo, even if on the third listen in a row, then, looked up at the massive pure blue upwards, cloudless, felt likely to cry for joy, but in the end simply mouthed the words:

“I’m gonna die of loneliness, fo sho.”

So often doth trespass our intuition upon realms and pathways of a more intimate enumeration of cause and effect than could be available to any witness, and that is available only to the actioning of objects involved in the event seen and analyzed by what and who were no player.

The crisis paid goodbyes in the form of telling your ass off, is what he said. But we all knew he thought he was merely a parable often enough already. We didn’t listen to the crisis, deliberately shut our ears like boxing them very slowly ourselves before anyone else could. Later in the year many terrible events would occur that were the direct result of ignoring his words. But nobody came around to believing he did it. The crisis was way off teaching prophecies someplace probably foreign. But if I refuse to be confined to learning from my own folly I should at least give the follies of others a chance. Fatass karma, and more hell than handbasket.

What the crisis he said was

HEY YOU DONT WANT TO FACE JACK, FACE? TELL ME ABOUT HOW CRUELTY CAN BE ELEGANT AGAIN. YOU ARE FACING NO SUCH BURDEN OF SIMPLY LIVING. TELL ME WHAT HALLUCINATIONS ARE, YOU SWOLLEN, DYSPEPTIC SHIT.

And to this day All I remember is him Looking slain already Like he’d be on the slab In days Or even hundreds of years from then And it’d be how, uh, how He looked then Slamming the door While my sister and things Was gatherin they buckets for weeping later In that queer disease of spite where You grieve for the vanquished enemy.

all triumph is in some sense humorous, for in itself triumph is the opposite of tragedy. that is why the soldier laughs as he shoots at a retreating enemy. there is an element of rowdiness that is somewhat comedic, taken in itself.

Numbers are the only symbols that stand for what they are. In this way they are more like hieroglyphs

is bed porn a thing? it should definitely be a thing.

THIS LIFE IS FILLED WITH DARKNESS THIS DARKNESS IS SO LIGHT GOD IN HEAVEN QUA SKY MUST BEAT WINGS TO KEEP ON GROUND NOTHING MUCH IS EVER FOUND NOTHING MUCH IS EVER FOUND. No symbols where none intended etc etc

No art is permanent, in that its aims in being created do not last, do not translate between epochs. I will never experience Homer as one living in Ancient Greece. Have not closely read Homer, but when I do it will be as myself in my time, with all the sullying context of those years from then to now only left to unguide me.

Kierkegaard tricks you into thinking he knows his insanity is illogical, the side effect of writing his labyrinths. The frightening moment comes when you realize how fiercely logical his insanity seems to him, and how insane the World actually is, and you wonder if it is that you do not understand it or just do not accept it.

[callonb]

GYBurst of Inspiration/Motivation

Where does inspiration come from? - Snacks I recorded a song with Samuel Hawkins recently and that was the first line of his verse. Lately thats been on my mind more and more. Where does my inspiration come from and why cant I always bask in its motivational energies? Seems that my drive comes and goes with the moon phases or as planets enter and leave our orbit. Could be the skys dictating my moods and movements (which i think it does have an effect) or it could be the mass amount of coffee and tea i drink a day. Definitely important factors but not quite the source. My mom definitely motivates me, she believes in everything Im doing and helps every way that she can. Its not financially but sometimes emotional support is more important. Shouts out to Momma B you the realist. Same for my homies and not homies as in people i force myself to be around, cuz having friends is what you do. Actual family that i grew up with and have developed a relationship with, the GYB family. The ones who sat me down years ago and was like dude...... you need to take this rap shit seriously. The ones who are now getting more and more involved with the movement every day, pushing everything to the side and riding along with my dream and making them their own. Everyday the homies are pushing to help me create this vision for you guys as they've adopted it as their own. Like minds on the prize, Shouts out the Layer homies. That only seems to be half of it tho, and Ive never felt this type of fire burning inside me before so what is it? Magazine drama and BS doesn't motivate me, Music doesn't seem to hit me the same way anymore. I used to listen to music constantly, new rap definitely doesn't do it for me.....makes me feel lower. New tv shows dont do it for me im bored with most of the popular shows out. Same for games or just typical activities that people partake in. Partys, drugs, random hook ups...It all seems so blah to me and im completely uninterested. I learned I have to stop feeding my lower self and focus on my higher self and what that part of my being truly wants and thats to CREATE!!! Whenever im around an environment that drives me to create and push myself i perform better. So i guess i just realized what really inspires me, and thats a creative environment. Who is responsible for this? Well I saw the Rotunda Project last weekend at Maiden Alley, a collaborative piece by Fairseas. The Fairseas are a group of musicians named Jeran Simmons, Bobby Dowell, Codie Franklin and Shanden Simmons. I watched them plant this seed years ago and now its a giant tree that you can sit back and marvel in its greatness. The main theme of the film was collaborating with your community. I cant lie ive had many many thoughts of leaving my community to collaborate elsewhere but ive came to a realization recently that it isnt necessary. To my surprise and probably a lot of people around here, there is a bubbling hip hop scene around here that is about to explode. Ive started to invest my time and efforts into this scene now and received nothing but results. Shanden has been a major influence in my artistry because he is always honest, encouraging and persistent....three very important characteristics to have in a creative environment and on top of that has become one of what i would consider my best friends. I look at him as one of my GYBrothers. On to the hip hop scene around here tho..... mysterious person named "A" aka the Hollow Man and he is one of the most promising producers/writers around. His solo stuff is outstanding and the collaboration effort we are working on "A & B: The Empire" is next level. Its been well over a year in the making and will shock most people when they hear the new styles i bring to the tape compared to my previous work. A always challenges me to be very intelligent when I piece together my verses and I like that. He makes me want to grab a dictionary and start reading so I can match his extensive vocabulary.....and maybe I have done that lol. Im the ONLY artist that the mystery man works with at the moment and that hits me now in a way it never has before. Like why me, do I really have something in my music that would make this beyond talented artist spend his time and efforts to make beats for us to collab on and want to include me in everything he does? His beats are above any producer Ive ever heard even in the big leagues of the rap game its crazy but he will prolly have his own GYBlog entry about him eventually. I have to move on before i make this to long lol. Next is JSkrilla, I have met the Skrilla a few times in passing but i dont think we realized what each other really could offer the other. Until i ran into him at the damn ROTUNDA PROJECT.....back around full circle. After that we decided to get together. We showed each other some of our music. I didnt know he made dope beats as well as spit hot fucking fire but he does. We shared our philosophies for our craft and talked hip hop and all sorts of other randomness. Then we picked a beat and wrote a song on the spot. Bar for bar back and forth. J stressed to me it had been a LONG time since he had been able to just sit down and write with another emcee that wasnt intimidated by his ability to write on the spot, or to match his caliber of wordplay and rhyme schemes. To both mine and his delight I delivered. Skrilla really challenged me tho, most artist get so caught up in the main stream BS or conforming to certain concepts and topics in their verses that it had been a while since I had felt pressure when writing to make sure my bars are up to par. Felt good to feel that energy again i had been missing the want to become better and that leads me to the main cause of my motivation and my improvments or just overall attitude change whatever you want to call it. the TRYBE!!!! Snacks, B. James, and Waun D. are the Cerberus of this rap shit. I have a lot to owe to them. GYB and Trybe share the same values as far as what we hope to contribute to the culture of arts and musics and how we hope to impact the hip hop community as well as the communities we all live in. I have done one show with them and have multiple other ones lined up with them. As a matter a fact i cant see myself doing a show with anyone but them from here on out. Once again them as well as JSkrilla could have their own full length blog entry but i digress for the sake of your attention lol. The Trybe challenges me to be a better emcee by making me freestyle. Which if you have been around me doing music ive never been a good freestyler.....UNTIL NOW!!! They have cracked that shell and brought me out of it. Making me partake in their cyphers everytime we get together. Soon Ill be as smooth off the top as i am with the writtens then its over for everyone! Sharpening my skills is not something that other rappers really push you to do. Rap is very competitive and braggadocios so pushing someone to improve and possible be better than you is unheard of. The Trybe doesnt see it that way though, they want us all to grow together. With a shared love for hip hop and me and Snacks shared love for Anime we can talk for hours and hours before we realize we havent done any music lol. Everytime I hear a new Trybe song i feel my artistry being challenged. The message in their music makes me want to really focus on the concepts i present in my music and start challenging my self to pretty much step my game up. Between Skrilla, "A", and TrYbe, everything new I hear makes me question my latest bars which is exactly what I need. Hip Hop is my life and my love and above any amount of money i can potentially make off this art is the desire to be the best emcee to ever grab a mic and thats the same mindset i had when i originally picked up the pen and decided i would be a rapper. Before i saw 8 mile and realized that being a white rapper wasnt necessarily accepted, before all the laughs, all the hate and just general shade i received for my dreams. Being white in this game is a roadblock but for the first time these guys made me realize that i have overcame that hurdle 100 times over. I had a long talk with the Trybe last night and they gave me a boost of confidence that finally fully ignited that fire i had lit but tried to conceal. Im no longer worried about what is cool or what people want. I just want to create and you will more than likely like it because I do have skills that i myself had been sleeping on. I hear these artist like A, Skrilla, and Trybe and i felt underneath them but now i see my self as an equal. We all have different things we bring to the table that compliment each other and its time to put it all together and make it happen. Plus we all just fucking dope and there is no denying. This is my new goal. No more time wasted on what i "think" is the right move. Im going to follow what i KNOW to be the right path and follow my heart. Thats challenging myself with these artist and like minded individuals to always be better. Also as Snacks has said before "move at LIGHT SPEED" thats just what Ill do with my light brothers here. We like some damn warriors of this rap shit waging war against a evil corrupt entity but thats also for a whole separate entry lol But no war of this caliber is complete without a general so shoutout to SirDuke. Ive also recently became friends with this crazy dude and he has shown me in just the short time ive known him more love and support than some people ive known my whole life. He also inspires me because he has dedicated his life to serve and protect (literally) and most importantly LEAD. He has an army of pretty much every hood and every rapper in each of them just waiting for his call. and he is not leading them astray, Shoutout the Kollektiv. Duke is also a talented singer and emcee. He has a show with me tomorrow at the Hangover in Murray MAKE SURE YOU COME TO THAT AND SEE MY NEW ALBUM CONSCIOUS TRAP PERFORMED LIVE starting at 9pm. but yeah Duke is dope and I can appreciate his leadership skills and what he hopes to accomplish in his community by cleaning it up through music. He is rubbing off on my and motivating me to hold that same position with my Layer army of GYB homies ive assembled. Most of them are clueless about the industry and music so its up to me to guide and lead them so they can be their own selves and make it in this world without the middle man down your neck. Im going to wrap this up because it ended up being way longer than i intended but i wanted to also say to my fellow collaborators and friends above all. Wolf, Golden Wrist Banks, Trevell, Dope, Simple, Benji and Angel Mascato. You guys have MAD SKILLS. You guys inspire me too because I hear something different in your music than i hear from most. I want you all to continue to grow and expand your creativity to new levels. Tell YOUR story. The same story is constantly told but how will you tell YOURS in the true challenge. So i encourage you guys like i have been recently, step outside of the norm and do what you truly feel in your heart that you need to, fuck what everyone else wants from you just create the way you feel appropriate. A lot of you are working with Duke regularly and I think he will tell you the same thing I am now. Even if its certain people in your lives holding you back, they gotta go. Surround yourself with positive people that want to grow with you instead of out grow you and you will see the same results. Probably why you guys were all on my latest album, except Trevell im sorry and you should have been but you know the deal homie its all love. Frank.....dammit man just rap lol but anyways ill end it on this note. Getting in touch with that child like mind state and that pureness of love in my heart again. Losing all my intentions to want to be better and out do someone but rather COLLABORATE with like minds in my community has already in return pushed me forward in a lot of ways. Seems almost as if they had been waiting on me this whole time. Its certain that my actions are now speaking louder than my words and everyone is starting to catch on. including myself finally. If you read this far thank you and I love you. Youre more than likely part of the reason why i typed this or why i even continue to do what i do. I trust you guys just as much as you trust ill deliver. Have a great day, maybe you can draw inspiration from this or some of the same people or things that i do! So put down that magazine full of empty content and read something meaningful that you are interested in, turn off the news and watch some anime, stop playing shooter games and play final fantasy, stop eating out and prepare your own meals, dont listen to music just play instrumentals and freestlye every day or just make your own, quit scrolling on facebook and take a stroll around the block, only spend time with those that help you grow rather than keep you low. So much inspiration out there sometimes we just have to break away from what we are used to in order to pull from the experience. Now im really done. and excuse my poor grammer and probably a shit load of spelling errors. That wont ever change, these blog post are run on sentences of my thoughts that pass through my head every day. Sometimes i just take the time to jot them out as they pass. PEACE LOVE AND GYB!!