#pain uw u

[nvrcmplt]

[LAST LOOK]: before going into a situation that may result in their death, the sender takes a moment to cup the unaware receiver's face in their hand, just to take a final look of admiration at them before they go. ( do i even need to say who this is for? )

No one could say that Beschutzer wasn't loyal. When ordered to remain behind, to watch over the Throne and the people Atem loved with all his being even if they were a headache to look after. The way the Pharaoh sat upon his steed for the deserts stretch, the beast of shadows, blood and chains, remained at their city's gates. As dark as the night that stretched over the skies they naturally came from their lingering. Watching their men set their needs, rations, water skins, swords and arrows. Compasses, gifts from loved ones to hold and remember in the battle ahead… Beschutzer didn't know why he was allowing it to be without his fang or claw. Many humans were probably thinking the same, it wasn't as if Atem wasn't able to summon forth monsters to his sides, but he, Him, Beshuctzer - was asked once through hushed whispers in the bed chambers. To be caressed and words of promised swallowed in their love making.

An ask that shouldn't sink his legs into the sands as it did.

To share one last touch of his love, to hold hands upon his face and to nuzzle his brow into theirs. The beast humble and small, almost weeping without the tears as he hunched in place. Remaining for as long as he could gain - and with the last of the deepest inhales of their scent. This was his king, his mate, his second soul, his keeper… Lashes blink awake, and he releases his love without words. Just knowledge that he'll wait here, staring across the seas of golden grains… And Beschutzer did wait. He waited day after day. Week after week. Month after month. Year after year…. Century after century.

He waited.

He waited.

He waited.

Then he wept into the sands with only the sky as his witness.

[normans-endorphines]

Question for the low bm1 girlies-

is it normal for it to hurt reaaly REALLY bad when u hit somewhere on ur body that doesn't have much f@t? (e.g. elbow, hip bone)

i swear this only happened after i lost a few lbs and now when i accidentally hit my bones i can almost see white from the pain

idk if thats a uw thing or if it means i needa chug sum calcium

[whoseafraidofliloleme]

I was like okay 😄😄😄 (painful laughs ) was waiting for the episode 😞

nd omg true beauty I was literally FULL ON CEYING AFTER THE ENDING SEOJUN DESERVED BETTER!!!!!!!!!!! (nd uw rote a fanfic giving him a happy ending 🤩🤩 I'll go read it 😁😁😁😁😁 )hehe congratulations nd I'm so proud of u for putting out your works cuz of true beauty she was the driving force for u

nd yes watching an airing drama is like ☠️☠️�� (literally watching it so slowly that more episodes comes before I catch up 🥴)

nd my classes started 😞😞it's been so tiring

take care of yourself stay hydrated and eat nice food 💕💕

I really cant do that, I love binging shows too much. Unfortunately I'm going through a bit of a slump, none of the dramas I've watched have interested me that much... So I'm stuck waiting until around Feb for the dramas Im interested in to be finished... Yep that includes My Demon....

True Beauty's like last 2 or so episodes pissed me off so much, (spoilers I guess?) That break up was so stupid and Seo Jun not getting a happy ending?! Soojin becoming a villain over a guy?! Ugh so many things annoyed me about the end... Specifically Seo Jun and his ending. Aww you don't have to go read it, its long.... The longest fic I've written at 30k and for some crazy reason people are still reading it...

Could never be me.... I will stick to binging thank you very much not to mention if watching while airing things start going a way I don't like? Imma be pissed I put so much emotional investment in these characters only for it to go so badly, nah I am not happy about it.

Ah the life of a student is never ending, I know the struggle is hard but you cant get through it!!

Take care!! Stay hydrated!! and just have fun/relax girlie!!!

[xtcdrft]

i’m gg thru so much too, everyday it hurts n i’m in pain, i js wn us to be okay, even bfr this happened i was alr so tired n when i knew i fucked it up i js know it’s only gna get worse, im so so tired i js wna be okay, i js wn to be happy loving someone. ik i’m the worst person in the world alr bc of what i did to u n i alr knew how much i fucked it up but u being like this doesn’t help us at all. i js wn to die, is that what uw me to do? cos i can n u won’t have to worry abt anything anymore.

[firebuug]

hey guess who made a NEW BUGGY SHIMEJI...

download it HERE and you too can have 500 buggies running around and throwing your art programs into the nether!*

download instructions under the cut!

1. download the zip file on dropbox! please keep all the images in the folder it’s important!

2. make sure u have the original shimeji program installed! if you don’t, download it here and put that somewhere!

3. put the Bug2 folder into the “img” folder of the shimeji program!

4. launch the shimeji program, turn on the buggy shimeji, and ur all set!

if you need any further help installing PM me!! f something doesn’t work it might be the shimeji program itself but pls lmk also just in case i got something wrong in the folder

*in order to have shimeji register your art program as a window Buggy can toss, you have to go to the running application tray (bottom right corner of a windows computer), right click on the shimeji icon, > settings, > choose interactive windows > add, then type in exactly what the title of your art application window is. for me, it’s FireAlpace (64bit) !

[susartwork]

[Context]

*sniff* @starfing43 why u punch me with kindness like that?!

I based my way to draw (Classic) Sans from Temmie Chang's drawings, but I changed some things that I took from Super Smash Bros' model. Found the design I've put it in my style UwU

I make shadows this way because cel-shading it's pretty difficult to me, and I have too much fun the way I do them XD I like to take my time and stay hours on the shading.

For the background as you can see I usually do trees if I can, because interiors are a pain to draw. For trees I just make the lines of the log and in another layer put the leaves:

Leaves are made with this brush only by tapping many times:

And for those trees in the UW!Sans asks I took some help from Underverse 0.2, the Underfell Snowdin's trees.

And that's why I say to look and study other people's art. You don't have to copy, you just have to memorize those things and rework them UwU

[kpophubb]

Hi precious 💌 gm ☀️

I’m so happy for you <3 congratulations from the bottom of my heart 🙈❤️ such a good news ! Ah:) I hope your dreams won’t stop coming true 🌈 🫧 what are you gonna study ? And where is your dream uni? Is it in 🇰🇷? (Ofc if u wanna talk about )

ah it’s gonna be a long letter ^^ I was thinking on taking some courses or maybe also going to uni, but I want to study law and it’s a very expensive..there’s actually lots of things I’m interested in , but have to save some money on 🙈 and I’m saving some money for my rent Ah , you literally have to be a billionaire 😅😂💸

I’m sorry for such a delayed reply I literally was thinking to reply yesterday but I got sick 🤒 and today it’s even worse 😂�� I literally cannot talk and my throat is in pain :/ drinking hot water 🍵 and vitamin c .. hope it helps 🤧 🤞🏻 

The book thing is very interesting .. 📚 I don’t have any friends who would like reading books and I don’t know anyone esp teenagers and personally I also don’t read , but I think it’s really interesting..I remember when I was a kid and a bit younger I was going to the library every single week:) oh now I know why your writing is so amazing ^^ you read a lot 👏🏻

Ah I can’t stop thinking about your exams and uni:) you might be very exited and happy 😃 I wish I could take you out for an 🍦 or smth^^^

As for me I’m mentally better.. weirdly enough 🙈😅 I’m starting new job training this Monday and I’m getting bit tense and nervous since Monday is approaching.. trying not to think about it, but you know I’m in such a place in my life when I don’t have anything going on / not busy I’m getting aphetic and extremely depressed and anxious.. so maybe this is good .. I hope so , busy things even tho I am in smth and busy doing something they distract me so much and in some kind of weird way they give me feeling of being alive .. I don’t have time to enjoy the day but it feels like I’m on a quest you know 😂 like in 💻 games and my goal is do the most in a day ..i don’t know how healthy is it on any levels but 🤷🏻‍♀️

I’m thinking about the song recommendation .. and

I just saw MV today , to be honest I was a little bit sceptical because when I saw this on my new realised list on Spotify I did not actually like it at first but today when I watched I really like her as a singer 😻she’s like so amazing , her voice is literally so amazing and then after I watched it I literally saved it to my current favourites 😹 let me know how do you find it :)

~ 🐁 nonnie

Hi my beloved beloved beloved 🐁 anonie 🥺❤️

first of all come here. Let me give you a tight warm hug for your hard work <3 from your late reply I could understand you were busy or having a rough week so I couldn’t help but wish you were healthy and alright <3 Ah I wish my uni was in 🇰🇷 tho haha😂 but nah, I’ll be studying in Malaysia 🇲🇾🫶🏻 I like the country and visited it twice and since all the living expenses and courses are in my favour, I decided to go to uni there. 💫 I’ll be studying Bachelors of Medicine and surgery! 🤩 as you can tell, I really want to help people around me and care for people hence the medical course is a DREAM for me🥺 I took some time tho, instead of leaving next month (which will be a big rush) I decided to go in next jan. So I can relax, rest, spend time with all my friends who I’ll be apart from :(( and get mental preparation of being independent and away from my family! Law? Wow law seems like a really GREAT but hard occupation bubs I know because my older brother studied law and bar from UWE- London. True that it’s REALLY expensive ;;-;; 😓 aww🥺 yes indeed I am very happy! However, there’s still a big risky step left (results) and a hell lot of preparations so I’ll let you know once I receive the official acceptance letter and visa <3 and about your work! Ah! It’s okay *pats your shoulder* we all feel nervous before doing something new for the first time. I’m sure you will do great! Deep breaths my love ❤️ you got this. Sleep properly and just try not to think too much about it. And ikr?? Staying at home doing nothing, being unproductive makes you sooo bored😫 I literally have nothing to do now so I set up a few goals. I workout 🏋️ (haha which I’m very new to) and do a lot of skincare/body care just to pass time!! Yes keep drinking water, ginger tea and take vitamin C tablets, and I pray you recover faster than you know <3 take life easy. Go at your own pace and do your best and I’m sure great things await you. 💓 as for the song recommendation and mv, I’ll be sure to check it out and leave my comments in our next ask. Mwuah 💖🫶🏻 I never really went to a library THATS SHOCKING RIGHT? Considering how much I love books. Not many libraries around where I live but it’s a bucket list item for me to one day visit a dark academia vintage library! Haha

[keiyoomi]

uw.

⤜ details: u. wakatoshi × reader ; 597 words; fluff

⤜ warnings! : none.

⤜ the request: “. . .Soulmate AU prompt 2 with Toshi. . .” - @nekxrizawa

⤜ note: i’ve finally rewritten this one. HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! i was supposed to write and finish tsukki’s drabble but look what we have here. 😂

⤜ masterlist

You could barely remember the last time you’ve felt the burning sensation on the skin of your hand. Maybe it happened when you were a toddler, before your parents chose to move out of your grandparents’ house.

Maybe it was a terrible idea to move to Sendai for the sake of your work. You should’ve probably listened to your parents’ warnings instead of using your stubborn head. “L/N-san, are you sure you’re alright?” one of your workmates ask, knocking on the cubicle’s door.

“I—” You wince. “—I’m okay! You can go ahead! I’ll. . . ” You pursed your lips as you felt that sharp pain. “. . . I’ll just look for you later!”

You should’ve declined the free tickets to MSBY vs. Schweiden’s match. But come on, you personally knew how hard it was to grab some tickets to the match. You’ve tried purchasing them to watch your childhood friend—Atsumu—in action. That ass didn’t even gave you a free pass when he found out that you’ve failed to purchase a ticket, instead, he laughed at your misery.

You composed yourself before stepping out of the cubicle. You were the only one inside the women’s toilet amd you could hear the faint screams and cheers from the main court.

You washed your hand before cupping your hand. The burning sensation has not subsided, but you wouldn’t allow a simple pain like this to keep you from cheering for your bestfriend.

You were drying your hands with your towel when you bumped onto a stranger. You took a deep breath while pressing your thumb against the two letters imprinted on your skin.

Why is this happening now? Why now of all times?

Tears slips from the corner of your eyes as the the pain triples. “Miss, are you alright?”

You looked up at the owner of the voice. Your eyes were blurry with your tears, but you could recognize who he is.

Ushijima Wakatoshi—the man who you’ve once claimed to be the full name of your ‘soulmate,’ as Kita-san’s grandmother would call him.

If this encounter happened in another time, you’d probably be laughing or giggling or would sputter some nonsense. . . some excuse. . . or an apology to get away from him.

His eyes glances at your hands. You’ve noticed how his eyes softens before taking your hands into his. His calloused fingers traced the two letters on your hand.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, bringing your hand on his lips before kissing it gently.

You were a mess after he did such action. Confused and in pain. But it didn’t that long until the unbearble pain slowly vanish.

You were uncertain if he has something to do with it, but still you were thankful. Thankful that you could no longer that burning sensation anymore.

“Ushijima-san, it’s almost time,” a voice reminded, popping the imaginary bubble that envelopes you and Wakatoshi.

Wakatoshi smiles before caressing the back of your hand. “Meet me after the match, okay?” You were confused, but you nodded your head. “I’ll see you later.”

As you watch his broad back walking away from you, you tilted your head. “What the hell?”

⤜ general taglist — @haikyuu-ink ; @kenchiko ; @agaassi ; @lovetsuki ; @sadsugarplumm ; @yams046 ; @namyari ; @thatnikkixx ; @k-eijiakaashi ; @dearest-kiyoomi ; @thatasiang1rl ; @starfleetakaashi ; @stcrryskies ; @kunimwuah ; @shou-kunn ; @sugacookiies ; @ushissugarcube ; @bap-kingdom ; @lilidrawz ; @crypto-s ; @sanitisegermsfree ; @idiot-juice-enthusiast ; @moonlightaangel ; @zephyrria ; @humancasket ; @bbakougo ; @attsm ; @kouffee-ink ; @hqsks ; @daichiforsure

[fawnsil]

“W H O  D I D  T H I S ?”

Day 5: Pain/Comfort, easy to see what i went with uw,u shes fine, just a bit beat up but i promise vaggie is oki

[shawn-mendes-post]

Family part 5

Y/n's relationship with Shawn started to crumble. She becomes frustrated with receiving text messages from Shawn, but he "claims" he never did. Most of them would be canceling on taking (b/n), which frustrated her due to Kaden and her had plans. Other times she would have to find a babysitter on short notice or take him to work with her. Then Shawn would call her, wondering why no one was at the apartment. A fight between the two would exist, making the two angry at each other, saying harsh stuff they did not mean.

After a while, the two would call each other, apologizing, wanting to make their weird relationship work for their son. (b/n) is finally 9 months and 3/4 meaning, (Y/n), and Shawn planned a little get together to see which house their son is.

Shawn holds his son, smiling at the camera. "Today, we are going to find out what (b/n)'s house will be. His daddy is a Gryffindor. His mommy is a (Hogwarts house)."

(Y/n) walks towards the two, rolling her eyes at Shawn's statement," you declared yourself a Gryffindor. I think you would be a Hufflepuff, " she teased, smiling when she watches a pout form on Shawn's lips.  

"I am a Gryffindor, not anything more, but brave and courageous," Shawn states, narrowing his eyes when he sees her starting to giggle. "Humph," Shawn looks away, ready to move on, cheeks having a pink hue dusted.

Shawn puts their son down, cheering for Gryffindor, while (Y/N) shakes her head, not caring what house their son picks. She could not wait to get him into the same series that made his parents fall in love.

(B/n) starts to crawl, looking at the different onesies sitting on the floor. He makes his way to the blue one in wonder but stops. He glances back, tilting his head.

Shawn was making a motion towards the Gryffindor one, hoping the little boy would get his message. "Hey, you are cheating," she yelled, playfully, slapping Shawn's arm. "No, I am not. I am encouraging him. There is a difference," Shawn said before chuckling at her unimpressed face. "Fine, I will stop."

(B/n) continues to crawl moving, toward the green one, the animal making him curious, but stops once more. He looks at the other ones, not knowing what to pick. "It is okay, love. Pick one." (Y/n) says in a soothing voice, not wanting him to feel like he would make a mistake. Slowly, he goes to one and grabs the material.

"Well, aren't you, my little _____."

(Y/n) help change (b/n) into his onesie, smiling softly at how cute he looks. "Come on, let's show your daddy and Kaden," she picks him up, walking back into the living room.

Kaden smilies, getting up and walking towards the two, holding his arms out. The baby reaches out, wanting to be in Kaden's grip, giggling as he is pick up. "It was tense," Kaden mumbles into her ear, knowing Shawn did not like him.

She nods, going to where Shawn sat, sighing at the conversation they will be having. She stops at the table, grabbing the plate full of cupcakes that significance of the four houses. She holds the plater for Shawn to take one before placing it between them on the couch.

"What happened to us, Shawn," (Y/n) asked, her face drained, tired of pretending everything is okay with them. She still remembers the happy times the two had together and the fact they planned their future together to an extent. Yet, here they are in different relationships. One connection that brings them together, but for how long?

Shawn runs his hand through his locks, looking anywhere but her, knowing he would break down any minute. He did not know himself, and that hurt him because he still cared for her deeply. "I don't know," replied pathetically, not knowing what to do. His body craved to reach out and hold her again, but he stops himself.

"I did think that we would get married and start a family. We would grow old together and watching our children grow up and move on with their lives. I never thought of being with someone else," She explains, waiting for Shawns reaction to her confession.

Shawn stares plainly at the cupcakes, pondering on her response; his heart breaks a little more, knowing he had the same vision of their future together. His right hand places on her knee, shifting closer to her, wanting to show he understood her pain.

"I know. I messed everything up because of a single song. If I could go back, I would. I still love you (y/n). I don't know what can; I do to show you that I do want to be in your life, in his life. I never pictured myself as a father at such a young age, but I am glad it was with you. I will always carry regret for not cherishing you as you deserved, and that is forever destroying me," Shawn whispers, eyelashes blinking rapidly, trying to stop the tears from forming.

(Y/n) moves the platter of cupcakes to the table stand before enveloping Shawn in an embrace, knowing how hard it is to watch the person you love loving another person, but she had to move on. Didn't she? She rubs his back, whispering in his ear, "it is okay, Shawn. Shh, everything is going to be okay."

Shawn sniffles, letting a few tears slipping out, wishing things could go back to the way it was before. Shawn wraps his arms around her waist, missing how perfectly she fits, yearning for the smell of (favorite scent).

The two hold each other, both feeling the warmth of each other's embrace after the absents for so long. Shawn calms down, pulling away from the hug, knowing she is not his anymore. (Y/n) stares at Shawn, noticing his slightly red and puffy eyes, a few droplets on his face, making her reach out and gently wipe them off with her thumb.

@hxneybee-uwu

@shawn-youth

@sspidermanss

@turtoix​

@unpredictabledinosaur

[vinylfromthevault]

Sinead O’Connor “I Do Not Want What I Haven’t Got” released 30 years ago today, March 20th, 1990. It was O’Connor’s second album and a massive hit, hitting #1 in a ton of countries, including the US and the UK, propelled by her #1 song, the reworking of Prince’s “Nothing Compares 2 U” which she released in January ‘90. I bought the CD of I Do Not Want What I Haven’t Got in ‘90 (this LP is a fairly recent acquisition: we picked it up in London this past summer - for whatever reason pretty much every used record store had at least a copy or two in their bins). I adored Sinead in the 80′s and early 90′s - her voice and music hit a particular chord for me - and this record utterly slayed me when it was released. I was a freshman in college at UW-Madison and while overall it was a great year, there were some times of heart-wrenching pain. Listening to this album helped me wallow in that for a bit (the track “The Last Day of Our Acquaintance” was particularly good for that). “Nothing Compares 2 U” is brilliant and still stirs up some light misting around the eyes. I also adore “The Emperor’s New Clothes” which is so raw and angry; it was her second single from the album and went to #31 in the UK and #60 in the US (though hit #1 on the US Alternative chart). “I Am Stretched Out on Your Grave” is super-hypnotic and “Black Boys on Mopeds” is super-sad in a socio-political commentary kind of way. I also like “Jump in the River” which I think was written and released a couple of years before this LP; she co-wrote it with UK punk Marco Pirroni who played briefly with Siouxsie and the Banshees at their first gig in ‘76 and later played with Adam and the Ants, co-writing some of Ant’s biggest hits. 

[yeswritingsandwritings]

COVID Diaries; Pennies

It is March 2020 and I’ve channeled the spirit of Paul Revere. As Los Angeles erupts into rioting and mass fentanyl suicide, I dive headfirst into the cabin of the Mazda, and gun the packed ship upwards along the vacant I5 corridor. Every smouldering city under Gavin Newsom looks further gone than the last. The navigation takes me on some perverse fantasy detour thru post-apocalyptic San Francisco. It’s been a long time coming but now it’s solidified. The mayor and her delegates have chomped their cyanide pills and now the streets and bridges offer rotting cars beside silent, beautiful Victorian manors. Still in full color, the sky is blue and the sun is yellow, gleaming indifferently. I am nervous about San Franscisco County. The shelter in place order says no one shall be out on the street without proper reason. And, proper reason or not, I have a pharmacy of drugs in the trunk of my car. Will it be enough to wait out the pandemic in my mother’s house? Enough to keep me sane tucked in the basement of the compound on Cougar Mountain, Issaquah, Washington, for GodKnowsHowLong? My very own Bavarian Alps.

For years in LA I have lived for high speed and hard sex in a blackout frenzy which no young American could denigrate without looking like a nerd. In our culture of excess I sought the most insane, unexplored corridors. Chavionistic romps through the bitter forests of lust, contamination, too-young suicide, too-good blowjobs that leave explosions on this cast of characters flown from every corner of the globe, all with the same indelible fever. I come to now, in this chaotic month handed down by God, March 2020, and I’m withdrawing from all of it in the penthouse on the side of the mountain.

In this moment the fantasy is fading fast, like being jolted from a wet dream by a home invasion. For a lot of people the American dream was already a flickering ember in the distance, a relic of some stupid pilgrimgrage for egoic glory, a blind propaganda puzzle piece with no jigsaw to belong to. But I had formed my own relationship with the concept, and, until now, had believed wholeheartedly in the myth in America; or at least that myth’s capacity to spur significant action, which could abolish hunger and pain, mistreatment and misunderstanding, which could deliver us from evil and unto the kingdom of heaven.

I am not, to many of her 300 million pairs of eyes, a portrait of traditional American success. I am the starving artist archetype. I’ve lived in abandoned buildings and shot cocaine into my veins in the speeding bathroom of many an Amtrak carriage. These may be my most definitive traits, save for the music I somehow manage to draw out of all of this. Albums worth of potential answers to the impossible questions. Sometimes I think I’ve reached the peak, with the LSD and the naked festival girls. I am 26 years old and feel incompetent. I go to pay a traffic ticket or am electric bill and find myself paralyzed at the entrance to the website. In a moment of otherworldly strength I call the bank and my debit card has been cancelled. I stare at the parking ticket in my pod, which has been rented from a company called Up(Start), and is arranged in a row with twenty others. At least I’ve made it to Los Angeles.

Up(Start) is a strange place. I find most people don’t last very long in this community. They leave back to their hometowns or find apartments. The ones who stay haunt this place like ghosts, with no discernible goals and mysterious incomes. I’ve learned not to ask how these life-longers pay the rent. The answer is not translatable.

Willow is one of these life-longers. She always talks about moving out; sometimes to an apartment in LA, most recently about some nebulous palace in France. She says her grandmother died and left her everything. She shows me a suitcase full of watches and rings that still can’t fully convince me of her story. She drinks vodka when she wakes up and convinces me to fuck her when Jesse leaves us in his room alone.

Jesse found his way out to a beautiful house in Silver Lake. He had been at Up(Start) for a year before that. He is the nicest guy I know, offering the coat off his back for nothing but a swig of your vodka in return.

I left these characters behind, keeping a steady 65 on the interstate and stopping only to black out in a hotel room in Redding, CA. Summer, inspirational barista and blowjob queen, dared me to stop and see her in Portland, but my body was crawling from scabies from Lucy, (who was also in Portland and, I would later learn, infected with the virus) and I sped right through.

My younger brother Jon was at the house and had been awaiting my arrival. I instantly understood why. My mother had become a figurehead for the national panic, and shoulder-hugged me with her mask on. She is, as we speak, sterilizing the place.

I’ve gotten to spend a good amount of time with Jon, and am somewhat surprised to find that he faces the same existential torment as I do. This is not something we talk about, but I can feel it on him. He is super into Xanax, and orders pressed bars off the darknet. I share the drugs I’ve brought with him. Kratom, weed, and, —most enticing— Flubromazolam. I learn that he has been kicked out of UW on academic probation. I ask him about it in front of my mother and stepdad. With a casualness that shocks me he says he just didn’t care about any of his classes. But he’s got reaccepted to the school and he says he’s going to make it this time.

I show him how I order my drugs online. I show him the designer benzodiazepines on the clearnet, pennies per dose. We place an order for O-DSMT. It’s an insane solution to our problems, but I guarantee you it works.

I tell Jon about my life in LA with the stuff. Taking it and driving weed deliveries all day. I don’t tell him about the long nights with Lucy, telling her the love I feel from the opiate is sourced from her, then failing to get hard.

Jon, for his part, tells me about the peak of his Oxycontin habit, poppin 7 OC30’s a day with his buddies at Rolling Loud. I was just a few blocks away. I didn’t know he was in town.

We order the O-DSMT to his apartment in the U District, stopping to and snag it on our sole vacation to Dad’s for dinner. Two packages have been delivered. We have the save pavlov response. We carry the packages to his apartment on the top floor and split the bubble wrap with a butterfly knife. Out of a manilla envelope comes 100 green Xanax bars. From a bent UPS envelope comes a gram of O-DSMT and 250mg of 4-ACO-DMT, a bonus for me (Jon says he hates psychedelics).

We set to the scale and split the gram, dosing 50mg then and there to get through dinner. The next day he visits me in the basement, saying “Yo, this O-DSMT shit… it’s dope.”

I say “I’m with you.”

My days are spent deep in the dream flow, recording songs for a hopeful fourth album. The third one is still far from complete, but I can’t go back and meddle with those songs now. Wouldn’t dare touch their Los Angeles essence with the hand of the evergreen state. They will go to Rob and Twon and Andy as they are.

I’m back to guitars for the new album. Cardinal sin AC/DC type songs. I think it may be a double album, quarantine permitting. I want an exploratory, unstructured, throw paint at the wall and see what sticks, White album/Life of Pablo situation. I want solo piano pieces and Aphex Twin-esque 808 excursions. I want the label to release it on white vinyl with extensive liner notes. Indulgence. I want this album to be the one where I say “indulge me.”

If Rob is vehimently opposed to the idea I had the fantasy of making an easy album. Taking songs like Parade Owl, See You Tomorrow, Miss Can’t Sleep and putting out a whole album of them. Good rock music. Take a step back from the frontlines; the cutting edge. We’ll see what sticks to the wall after this quarantine is over.

Weeks drift by. There’s a trade route for all the beer that gets brought into the house. It goes from the garage fridge to the basement fridge to my eager hand, to my mouth, to my blood. Night by night the ritual recurs, til my mom takes out the downstairs trash and finds all the empties. She makes some subtle comment. I tell her to buy more White Claw.

Despite the drug flow my inspiration seems to be drying up. Rob took a listen to the twenty five songs I’d completed since arriving in Issaquah and said they sounded like Dogs. The old band. The old rock and roll band we’ve been trying to move away from. I was disappointed to hear him say it. I was disappointed he wasn’t excited about the songs. “Fuck it, should I scrap them all?” I asked myself. Then I started to look around the house and understand that if nothing came of these songs… I must be insane. I must be losing it. The stupid research chemical stimulants don’t help. I thought they would. Productivity and all… but I’m just jittery, texting strangers on Instagram for hours, all the while feeling like I should be doing something else. And the television is on in the background, and I told myself I was going to do so much to day. And I did it. And people on Instagram say “you seem busy.” They’ve always said I seem this and I seem that. I never agreed with any of it, but they probably know me better than I do. How could I see myself? I look for myself through a fog and it’s only a ripple of a shadow. A microcosm a million miles away through a hellscape with no up or down, no east or west. They say I’m social. They say I’m a socialite. Really I just get drunk and unleash all my nervous energy on the party or, nowadays, the Zoom meeting.

Today I drink Modello. Ma and Chuck went to the Seattle waterfront for a picnic or something. I didn’t get the details. But the sun should be going down now, and she’s texting me asking if I want to play a board game when they get back. I say yeah sure I do. My temper when I’m off these amphetamines analogues, though… I worry I’ll flip the Pictionary board. Slam dunk the wine glass onto the wood floor. Now the cliffhanger; will this Modello calm my nerves?

This morning I went with mom to buy plants for the garden. I thought we were going to get seeds but she wanted the already grown ones. She was ready to be angry. Nothing made her happy. We went to three different garden store. I think she got some tomatos. How the hell am I going to get out of this one? Feels like the walls are closing in. I feel like I’m in the freezer in the back of McDonalds. I feel so sad for her, but I also feel so sad for myself. I feel cut off. I feel short of breath. I feel terror. It is Friday, April 17, 2020. Dread, terror, paranoia… I’m sure it’s been felt a million times by a million people, but here’s my version of it. In this McMansion on the side of the mountain, feeling less like I have a mission than ever. Calling nobody. Freezing. Yeah I’m freezing.

My brother and I both have drugs to get through this crisis but I’m planning to get off them. I sold him half of my etizolam and half of another shipment of O-DSMT the other day. He wasn’t at all interested in the 2-FDCK, an analogue of the dissociative Ketamine. I am still not really sure what dissociatives do to consciousness. They can move you into states profound darkness. You feel like your life is a black and white film and it is raining outside. And it drips off the palm trees and you sit in traffic on the way back from the Boy’s and Girl’s Club, where the boys and girls wouldn’t listen, they’d just go off into their own worlds. I wonder how they’re all doing now, tucked into their parents houses in Calabasas.

Anyway, I said to Jon “I’m getting off the stuff.” And I intended to. This journal finds me at a crossroads between fantasy and reality. What is my life going to be for? Where do I cast this fishing pole? Well the pole’s been cast. It’s out there in the middle of the ocean. But at the same time it’s in my hand, in this very moment, and I can chose where to dip it. I’m not trying to catch a fish in this scenario, I just like the serenity of the bay.

The question on everyone’s mind is: “If not drugs, then what!?” That’s a great question and I’d be bullshitting if I said I could answer it. I don’t know what lies on the other side of this life. I want to find out. Do I truly? I have to truly. Love, sex, work, victory… I’ve seen all these things before. And I keep turning to these substances. They fill up my days and my hours and all the music is informed by them. They move my hands to play the guitar and my voice is scratchy when it comes out. I’ve formed an identity around these drugs to a certain extent. That idea of me has to die. It does. I’ll have to mourn it. I’ll have to mourn a lot. I guess I don’t know what to be afraid of. I know a lot of stuff is going to come up through this process. The drugs numb it all out. People say that but it’s really really true. Bad news doesn’t don’t hit you as hard. Most things don’t hit you at all. You’re in your world. You’re off in a cloud. You’re unaware of the world around you. You’re afraid to engage. Why?

It’s easier not to ask why. It’s easier to get the immediate relief of a squirt of etizolam tincture. Or a gross tossing of O-DSMT powder into your mouth and a quick washdown with water. In this way you don’t have to answer any questions. In this way nothing hits you. And guess what else? All your heroes did the same thing.

But a lot of them died doing it. And you don’t want to die. You really really don’t want to die. You want to live a long life, with kids and grandkids, and see what happens to America and what music turns into. You don’t want to die, but what do you have to live for? You know you can make things up. Everyone’s always making shit up. All of this is made up. The culture, the value of a dollar, the value of a Benz. We just decide on it. And that takes a lot. But you know what takes a lot less? Deciding how you want to react to each moment. This one and this one and this one. Do you know what I mean? They say a lot of stuff about the world. The world’s fucked. They say the world’s burning to the ground. They say we can’t leave our houses. They say America won’t be a super power by the end of all of this. But they’re making shit up. And I’m making shit up too. I’m whipping up like a chef. Throwing dishes out from the kitchen, but the dishes are words and actions and the kitchen is my mind. What kind of food am I throwing out? What kind of food am I serving the world? Let me serve love and hope. But for that to happen, let me cultivate it in myself first. Let me nurture it like a child. Let me see it sober. Let me take the steps in the right direction. It’s simple. It’s simpler than you think it is. What are you going to do right now, after reading this? Or while reading this? How are you going to face the world?

Jon told me he got into Xanax from the Famous Dex song “Japan.”

“Baby girl, what you doing, where your man? I just popped a xan, fifty thousand in Japan”

He told me his friends heard the song and picked up some Xanax because of it. They liked it and reached out to him “You’ve got to try this,” they said. My little brother, in the throes of this batshit demon force that will bury him. It might bury me too. The jury’s still out. Mom, just let me withdraw in peace. She brings down a space heater. I grow to love it. I lay down on the wood floor that the spiders sometimes dash across. The space heater comes close to burning me, but I’m ok. I stand up, dizzy from all I’ve done to try to combat the withdrawls. Way too much etizolam, way to much kratom, getting to the point of way too much weed and alcohol. But hopefully it’ll all be over soon, and I can call my friends in peace and not want to slam down the phone whenever there is the tiny threat of silence, or whenever I speak, or whenever they speak. I can’t any of it sober, that’s what I think. Life is hard sober; it’s a breeze when you’re floating thru it. A good dream. So why get sober? They say it’ll kill me. Well, I said that. In this very same paragraph. And maybe it will. But when you’re withdrawing like this… all you want is a moment of peace.

Oh God, at dinner tonight I started to go off about my own mental state to the family. I should have known it was a big mistaken, but on my way home from Doordashing a rainy Issaquah I stopped at QFC and got a bottle of True Eagle American Spirits, Kentucky manufactured vodka. And, helping myself to serving of kimchi,  I said to them “I think I’m losing it.” And the conversation spiraled until my mother asked me “Are you suicidal?” And “Are you struggling with drugs?” Jon, between us, must have felt betrayed, but I just wanted to feel understood. I feel Chuck does not want to understand. I understand what he’s sacrificed for the life he has, but what value does that life has to him? He has a tumor in his jawbone, and it’s eating away at him, and no one can do anything. And they can’t get out to the specialists on the East Coast, and they won’t do the invasive surgery. He’s too busy. I know, in some capacity, he understands. Because he blows these things off like they don’t matter at all, when anyday he could have a stroke like Grandma had, fall to the floor of the kitchen while dishing up his kimchi, or pulling a slice of pizza out of the carton. I feel the same way. I have no idea what’s going to happen, but I know that I am mentally unwell. And I avoid the questions about my drug use and about my suicidality. I miss girls, ma. I miss pussy and parties and not giving a fuck. The way I don’t give a fuck now is in these terrifying sound collages drafted on the latest of nights, in the deep dark depths of quaratine. What was I saying in the last one? Something about how I didn’t wanna kill the crabs on the beach on Whidbey Island as a kid. Holy shit I’m losing my mind. But it’s all fine, isn’t it? As long as the music comes out fine.

What could I possibly do to get healthy? I feel so far off the deep end. You have no idea; I feel like crying. My best friend, living with the girl I thought I could always go back to. We don’t talk. I mix these ketamine analogues in with that cheap cheap vodka (plus etizolam) and cry tears onto this plastic table. It’s pointless to keep up the tinder courtships. I feel like this will never end. And it started with such a bang. I was such a part of history. Now I’m a nobody; I’m a junkie, holding on by the thinnest thread. No energy to pray. I feel like Cobain, and I know so many people do… but I really do. I can only imagine. But I’m only listening to Mingus, Lana Del Rey and Radiohead (Kid A thru Hail to The Thief).

Should I throw weed in the mix? Lord knows I have enough of it. It’s my number one priority. I’ve made enough songs now that we could workshop what I’ve come up with years. What else is there to do? Mingus ripped the piano strings out of some pianist’s instrument in front of a live audience, then stormed off the stage. Where the fuck is that in my life? I’m in front of the computer, weeping because America has come to a close. You know they sent jazz to the Soviet Union as a WEAPON? A weapon of freedom and democracy and individualism. What the fuck happened? It all makes me want to cry. It’s all too much; this world. These people I’ve known and loved and lost. This music I’ve made that they promise me will be something, but I don’t know if I believe them. I don’t know if I want anything to do with this life. I can’t engage with my culture anymore… my history. I feel like I’m not a part of it. I feel so disconnected. Who’s rippin the strings out of MY piano? Or who’s piano am I ripping the strings out of? We’ve lost so much… I mean… I’ll do my best to work with what we still have, but we’ve been so fractured. It wouldn’t surprise me if this was the end. Of America. Of our culture. Of our music and our hustle and bustle and industry and lover’s lanes and rites of passage. I feel like I’m mourning it now. Mourning my culture. Maybe mourning the illusion that was sold to us. Believe me, I was first in line to buy. That’s why it destroys me so deeply to see it collapse.

I guess we’re all one people. I’m crying writing this. Weeping, weeping, weeping. Grieving. You know what grieving is. I remember what’s-her-name in the pool. We went to every hot tub, each a different temperature, in the Desert Hot Springs Resort. Then Lucy’s friend’s new boyfriend told us Bernie Sanders had stayed there when he had visited DHS. I laughed so hard. Lucy ordered me another drink. She didn’t mind the cost. She liked me to be on her level. And I didn’t mind. I was proud to sip. We went back to the hotel and did god knows what. Feels a million lifetimes away.

This was back when anything could happen. When America was a blank slate and no one could predict anything. When you could go outside and say “What the fuck is up?” and get in adventures. I mourn the loss of that. Maybe it’s all in my head. Maybe that’s still there. But I’ve emotionally severed my ties to it. And I wish I didn’t. Because I love it. I love it so much. It’s not a myth. I swear to god it’s not a myrh. It was a reality… until all this happened. You have no idea. I mean, if you’re reading this and weren’t around before. You have no idea. I mean… I don’t know what things are going to be like after this. But not the same. There’s no way they could be the same.

You know I hope I get this shit. I hope I contract COVID-19. Lay in this guest bedroom bed with the scabies I may or may not have gotten from Upstart Creative Living… and which wouldn’t die off. I hope I can’t breathe. I hope I’m immune. I want to walk the world. Maybe I should go out, get it, isolate, heal, be immune… if that’s even possible. At this point we don’t even know if immunity is a thing that happens with COVID. But even if I could walk the earth without fear of it… everyone else is cowering, and they pull away from, seeing I’m not wearing a mask or gloves, or even if I am… I’m so sorry. I didn’t know it would all end this way. I would have done so much more. Focused so much more on each kiss. Even every note. I did my best, I guess. It feels like it’s all coming to an end. It’s Thursday, April 23, but that doesn’t mean anything. You have to understand how little dates mean in this time. It’s like we’re living in one of those time capsules buried beneath the walkway at WWU. Stagnant… yeah we write songs and poems and do our work and keep the economy from faltering completely… but there’s a different angle to look at it all now. The world is over. I mean, aha, to use the words of Rem… “It’s the End of the World As We Know It.” Key words: “As we know it.” I had no idea this would happen in my lifetime… I couldn’t even conceive it. If you would have told me this would have happened six months ago I wouldn’t have believed it. America seemed so stable. And now it feels like it’s in shambles. It really did feel stable. You may think I’m insane for saying America in September, 2019 seemed stable… but shit, we were free. And we were headed where we were headed. This throws a wrench in all of this. And it could be the end. And I thought this was the greatest country on earth. Happiness is a buttery, try to catch it like every night.

I’ve been fascinated in American history since I could understand it. Most specifically, I’ve been fascinated about how history is still happening. The closer you get you the current day, the harder it is to get a straight story. FDR did what he did and we won. That’s fact. That’s cement. Nixon? Everyone agrees he was a crook. But what about Reagan? What about Bush Sr? What about Clinton? The closer you get to the modern day, the more difficult it becomes to discern what is real and what is fake.

[scarletdestiney]

a quick tamago doodle <3 uw u (sorry for the slowdown in posts, i’ve been in quite a bit of pain neck and shoulder wise, but I got a new office chair to help with that ;w; )

[vampire-ezra]

Ezra’s Update on LP4

"To the fans:⁣ I know that 5-6 years is considered a long time between records. Personally, I think it’s a dignified pace befitting a band that’s already placed three albums in stores but everyone has their own sense of time. (I swear the time between 3 & 4 felt shorter to me than 2 & 3. I may be in the minority on this one.) ⁣ ⁣ This album didn’t really take any longer to write/record than MVOTC. We just took more time on the front end to chill. I’ll admit I may have stretched out the mixing/mastering process (aka THE END) a little bit cuz spending half the day with my family & half the day at Ariel’s is my ideal life-rhythm & it’s painful to say goodbye to that rhythm.⁣ ⁣ Many of you have been hungry for information and we’ve given you very little. I don’t like talking abt a project while in the middle of making it. I usually regret everything I say cuz it turns out to be wrong (so disregard anything I may have said in the past 5 years.) I thought abt making a recording diary to tide over the people leaving intense comments but…to me, the album IS the recording diary…man.⁣ ⁣ It’s called “FOTB” (well those are the initials - that’s a VW tradition) and it’s 18 songs. Picked the name a few years ago. At some point early on, the album drifted from the Mitsubishi Macchiato aesthetic. It was a helpful guiding principle tho. Working titles are important too.⁣ ⁣ It’s a lot of songs but they all belong there. (If you disagree, you can always say it was 6 songs too long & make a lil 12-song playlist version of it.) At first, I wanted to make two 23-song albums on some human chromosome shit but then 23&me started doing Spotify playlists and I don’t know…felt we’d been scooped.⁣ ⁣ Is it a double album? The vinyl will be double so…yes? It’s about 59 minutes long. We can talk more abt that later – if u care. To me, it’s just FOTB.⁣ ⁣ Anyway, we’re gonna start releasing music next week. After all that waiting, you should have the general schedule:⁣ ⁣ -There will be three 2-song drops every month until the record is out. 1. hh/2021 2. s/bb 3. tl/uw. (plans can change that’s the plan)⁣ ⁣ Thank you for ur patience,⁣ Ezra”

[teamvampireweekend]

First New Music From Vampire Weekend LP4 Next Week; Update From Ezra

New music next week

Initials of the album is FOTB

18 songs, 59 minutes long; there will be a double vinyl

Three 2-song drops every month until the record is out

Ezra’s full message:

To the fans:⁣

I know that 5-6 years is considered a long time between records. Personally, I think it’s a dignified pace befitting a band that’s already placed three albums in stores but everyone has their own sense of time. (I swear the time between 3 & 4 felt shorter to me than 2 & 3. I may be in the minority on this one.) ⁣

This album didn’t really take any longer to write/record than MVOTC. We just took more time on the front end to chill. I’ll admit I may have stretched out the mixing/mastering process (aka THE END) a little bit cuz spending half the day with my family & half the day at Ariel’s is my ideal life-rhythm & it’s painful to say goodbye to that rhythm.⁣

Many of you have been hungry for information and we’ve given you very little. I don’t like talking abt a project while in the middle of making it. I usually regret everything I say cuz it turns out to be wrong (so disregard anything I may have said in the past 5 years.) I thought abt making a recording diary to tide over the people leaving intense comments but…to me, the album IS the recording diary…man.⁣

It’s called “FOTB” (well those are the initials - that’s a VW tradition) and it’s 18 songs. Picked the name a few years ago. At some point early on, the album drifted from the Mitsubishi Macchiato aesthetic. It was a helpful guiding principle tho. Working titles are important too.⁣

It’s a lot of songs but they all belong there. (If you disagree, you can always say it was 6 songs too long & make a lil 12-song playlist version of it.) At first, I wanted to make two 23-song albums on some human chromosome shit but then 23&me started doing Spotify playlists and I don’t know…felt we’d been scooped.⁣

Is it a double album? The vinyl will be double so…yes? It’s about 59 minutes long. We can talk more abt that later – if u care. To me, it’s just FOTB.⁣

Anyway, we’re gonna start releasing music next week. After all that waiting, you should have the general schedule:⁣

-There will be three 2-song drops every month until the record is out. 1. hh/2021 2. s/bb 3. tl/uw. (plans can change that’s the plan)⁣

Thank you for ur patience,⁣ Ezra

[deer-watcher]

I have to ask this...Der Tod....

@reydiogaga & @maladaen both asked for Der Tod (in mysteriously different tones??) YEEHAW

First impression: For context my first Der Tod was Uwe in the 2002 Essen production, so my initial thoughts were like, first of all, fascination that they cast this goth blonde prince-lookin mf as DEATH™, and second that the long velvet coat was…..mmm…….v good. I have a distinct memory of wondering what Death™™ could possibly SOUND like, and then Uwe sang the first few lines of his part in the Prolog and I thought “oh…..oH……..OH” like. my jaw was on the floor y’all. BUT MORE CHARACTER-WISE one gets the sense right away within the first few minutes of how Der Tod is unpredictable but forthright, and kind of……unsettling but…..in a good way……a spicey way…

Impression now: A bitch. Bad at his job. Big dumbass thot energy. Always doing the Most and for WHAT. On a spectrum of gothique musical villainship ranging from disaster virgin Erik Phantomoftheopera at one end to goth king Dad von Krolock at the other, he falls somewhere in the middle, I think. Der Tod is so exquisitely awful he takes my breath away. Every moment he’s onstage is a joy of the most painful kind. G U Y S !!!!!!!! This character!! contains so many multitudes!!!!!! The facade of a beautiful blond prince (or brown-haired if ur Thomas or Kirill or w/e) overlaying the impossible oldness and ugliness of death….whew. The way he insists that Elisabeth can only be free through him, yet keeps trying to impose his will over her and indeed manipulates the entire empire toward its collapse. Not to go off TOO much here but additionally, I tend to think of Der Tod in terms of two v present but v distinct levels w/in the show. The first one is called the “Máté is hot” level, and the second level is called “Chronic Depression™.” Like….. yes Der Tod is a fun sexey gothique love interest and we want him & Elisabeth to end up together but……he’s also a personification of her suicidal tendencies…..and somehow he’s able to reconcile both of these disparate concepts……powerful.

Favorite moment: Probably Der letzte Tanz because of the sheer chaos of it and the fact that it’s a fuckin BOP. He rly does all THAT just to make a POINT and then just LEAVES like????? I haven’t read the libretto myself but I have to believe at that part at the end it just says “go tf OFF babe!!!!!”

Idea for a story: Dungeons & Dragons AU. Tod is the DM. Elisabeth’s character is a high elf warlock whose patron is an archfey simply called the Black Prince, played by Tod. Tod begrudgingly agreed to DM but quickly grows tired of it and starts just trying to kill off the entire party (also including Rudolf’s halfling paladin & Lucheni’s human bard) so that he can spend more time™™ with Elisabeth.

Unpopular opinion: IT’S STARTING TO SEEM LIKE AN UNPOPULAR OPINION THAT DER TOD IS NOT RUDOLF’S DAD????? Y’ALL. DER TOD IS NOT RUDOLF’S DAD.

Favorite relationship: Der Tod/Elisabeth

Favorite headcanon: He is horrendously touch-starved

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