#pretty sure summer skeletons is somewhere on my wrapped every year

[smolgreybunny]

1, 11, and 99 for your Wrapped?

1. Floating by Addison Agen

11. Into My Arms by Nick Cave, from the About Time movie soundtrack

99. Summer Skeletons by Radical Face

[vanilla-blessing]

qb anime of the year list 2018

Anime of the Year 2018 - the year of girls going to aquariums together

I’ve seen at least one person who claimed that 2018 was the best year for anime in recent memory and I’m inclined to agree. A large majority of my top ten list is shows that I would consider perfect and even shows that blew away what I thought was possible in the medium. It was a revolutionary year and makes a strong argument that anime wasn’t a mistake after all. - qb

#1

Hugtto! Precure blew away my expectations every week for close to a year. I don’t exactly know what to say about it here, since this isn’t the last time I’ll talk about it for sure. It doesn’t even end in 2018, but it was such a huge part of my 2018 in anime that it would be inaccurate to not include it. The only way I can think to explain Hugtto! Precure is to talk about the Netflix She-ra reboot. She-ra’s a pretty basic modern Dreamworks cartoon, with some interesting ideas thrown in and likable characters, but mostly held back by what they could realistically allot for production. Because of this limitation, She-ra goes hard on a single perfect episode (if you’ve seen it, you know which one) that stands out in a big way and shows the full potential of what they set out to make. Usually, Precure is lucky to get a handful of these stand-out episodes in a season, and most of the time just gets by, due to being an annual series that can never, ever take a break. Normally, the first few episodes of a Precure season can be counted on to be strong, but the realities of anime production being hella tough inevitably catch up.

Hugtto! Precure started with an incredible opening arc, then never let off the gas pedal. Nearly every episode of Hugtto is a stand-out, never-before-seen, innovative tour-de-force. The combination of production miracles that resulted in Hugtto has been talked about by me on this blog before, (http://vanilla-blessing.tumblr.com/post/176000267859/hana-is-getting-unstable-a-pink-precure) but the length of time that Hugtto stayed in the paint, going extremely hard every single week with few exceptions, was just absurd. Every season of Precure has one or two peaks, sometimes a good season gets lucky and has even more, the best seasons bat a solid average, but are still expected to be held back by reality. Coming out of the fifteenth season of Precure with a majority of the best episodes in the entire franchise isn’t something that I can wrap my head around, but it definitely happened, mostly in 2018. It’s simultaneously a love letter to the franchise’s past, present, and future made by the biggest Precure fans on the planet, and it’s unquestionably the best season. Hugtto threw what we all knew was true and had accepted about Precure clear out the window, retroactively made older seasons better, watered my crops, brought world peace, ect.

Oh yeah and boys can be cures now. 

#2

I’m definitely not done with Revue Starlight and this won’t be the last time I talk about it. Revue Starlight essentially carried the Summer 2018 anime season on its back. Starlight absolutely dominated my anime watching schedule; my week was seriously just waiting for and watching different translations and releases with every other show being almost incidental, far less important than waiting for the song lyrics to get translated for an episode I had seen three times already. I won’t get into everything here, since I’ve already talked about it on this blog after all (http://vanilla-blessing.tumblr.com/post/179023723689/subtext-is-for-cowards-revue-starlight), but I need to reiterate that it was such a commanding, unique, stylized experience and didn’t drop a single episode in its entire absurdly high-level production. The only reasonable explanation for this is devil magic, and hell, it was worth it. Revue Starlight is probably in my top 5 anime of all time and I wouldn’t get this list out if I said everything I wanted to say about it. It’s great. Watch it twenty times. 

#3

Pop Teen Epic, or Hoshiiro Girldrop, was the most wildcard that has ever been in seasonal anime, and could have been absolutely anything. What none of us predicted was just how much of anything this show would be, encompassing an unprecedented range of artists, voice acting talent, and whatever AC-bu are, each giving their very individual takes on a self-described shitpost comic strip, sometimes covering the exact same material two or three times, with no regard for any sort of cohesion or structure.

Nothing about this idea should have been funded, nothing in Pop Team Epic has any reason to work, and as a straight adaptation probably wouldn’t have worked. PTE spun gold from trash through the raw effort of artists doing their own thing, which captures the original spirit that made the formerly-cancelled comic popular in a way that’s much too intelligent for haters to understand. Also it got a dub, which is the most ridiculously bad idea i’ve heard in my life, and it owns that it happened.

#4

Spider-man into the Spider-verse is legit the best comic book movie ever made. It’s a fun, expressive twist on the most tired superhero origin story of all time, and showcases some of the most sssssssssstyle and raw, real emotion I’ve ever seen in animation. Its particular selection of influences is brilliant and poignant, rising far above the simple fanservice you’ve come to expect from Spider-man. The unrelenting individualistic spirit of this movie will stick with you the longest in the soundtrack, bravely incorporating a side of pop music that you don’t usually get to see in big-budget productions, pulling soundcloud rappers out of their grody (i’m told) dens into the spotlight with equal importance alongside the heroic score. Spider-verse is all about establishing your own unique flavor, and it manages to overwrite every other entry in this cursed franchise with its bold taste.

#5

It doesn’t make sense to me how amazing Aggretsuko’s dub is. The impeccable timing of each line, the perfect integration with the comedy, and the optimal length of the episodes are all far beyond what I expected from a Netflix show. It not only converted the original series of shorts that I already had on my top 10 the first year into a godlike longer series I didn’t know I wanted, but went to the effort to bring real metal singers in for the karaoke. Honestly just repeat everything I said in my 2016 list and multiply it by five. I hope they make more. They’re making more.

#6

I was pretty slow to pick up anime in the Winter 2018 season, but I never missed Hakumei and Mikochi, maybe because it was like, the only simulcast on my favorite online anime streaming subscription service HiDiVE. The subs weren’t great, and it certainly wasn’t all that popular, but it was just the relaxing show I needed. Hakumei and Mikochi brought me back to my favorite non-racist parts of the Redwall series of books: friendly animals, delicious foods, alcohol, and rustic songs. I was ready to put it on my list for simply being a cute healing foodie anime, but to my surprise, it had much more in store within its tiny world: stark confrontations with mortality, a shy riverside necromancer, the inexplicable remake of The Raid: Redemption in miniature, fashion trends, frogs, carpenter weasels, carpenter skeletons, ghost celebrations, a country beetle with lofty dreams. The list of memorable people, places, and things contained in the gnomish roommates’ tiny world goes on and on.

Masaomi Ando’s directing went completely along with the storybook aesthetic, maybe even to an overall detriment, which is exactly the kind of reckless commitment to style I love to see. The distinctive paneling, constantly gorgeous backgrounds, and deliberate pacing perfectly captured the imaginative stories I loved to read as a kid, but with more alcohol, and more sophisticated themes under the surface. Even something anime rarely get right, endings, were perfectly capstoned every week with a short digest that explored more of the history, legends, and very personal lore of their small, unique world. At its core, Hakumei and Mikochi is the calming story of tiny roommates you think it is, but it’s also so much more. They have day jobs and get drunk and remodel their house after it explodes that one time. They gamble dangerously to escape a blizzard, help a photographer give herself a little credit, and rescue their neighbor from a fancy grave of her own making. By the end of the show Hakumei practically built half a town. The collective stories from their everyday adventures build into something tremendous, and it all wraps up on the most perfect ending sequence I could have hoped for, which calls back to every story thus far as a new verse of the show’s central duet is sung. In any reasonable AnimeOTY Hakumei and Mikochi would be my top anime of 2018, but this year, the competition was unreasonable. This show will just have to settle for being the best regular anime of the year.

#7

Bloom Into You is an incredible adaptation of an apparently yuri romance manga that raises the bar for anime adaptations in general. I don’t know when, but somewhere along the line I stopped expecting that serious capital R Romance anime would have a distinctive style, and gave up to the notion that there was no demand anymore and a stylized, seinen/josei romance would just never get made. Well that was 2016 and then Scum’s Wish happened which this blog has covered extensively.(http://vanilla-blessing.tumblr.com/post/168842023559/how-lerche-adapted-an-average-trashy-romcom-into, http://vanilla-blessing.tumblr.com/post/168789506264/scums-wish-and-our-messy-uncomfortable) To me Bloom Into You feels similar in concept, as a difficult romantic situation with no easy answers or completely happy people. The main perspective character, Yuu, is among my favorite romantic leads in any series; she doesn’t get romantic feelings, although she wants to, and despite being easily motivated, is kind of dispassionate. Her relationship that she was pushed into with Touko might as well be out of mutual convenience, since Touko doesn’t want to fall in love with someone who would love her back, and Yuu doesn’t think she can.

Yuu filters the developments of the series as they grow closer through a very different perspective compared to more emotional leads of usual romance stories, methodically breaking down and considering where she’s at, observing where others are at, before taking an action that makes sense to her. Her growth through the series takes a very different direction than the common dramatic formula; instead of running headfirst into misunderstandings to overcome romantic challenges, she’s compelled to take a step back and position herself in a way that allows her to understand and confront her girlfriend’s issues. The changes that she experiences herself during this process are extremely gradual, but are no less significant to her. Although the dramatic weight of the series is obviously all about Touko, the central thesis of Bloom Into You is to explore Yuu’s complex feelings, and ask to what degree our actions are dictated by our emotions. It’s a heavy topic to be sure, but what makes this anime adaptation special in particular is how the directing and production pull it off, to maybe an even stronger degree than the original material.

Bloom Into You’s most striking and noticeable feature is the incredible conservation of small movements that connect expressions naturally. Minute changes in characters’ faces are vital to observe the almost imperceptible changes in Yuu over the course of the series, and every aspect of the direction is in service of highlighting these subtle moments. In addition, repeated cinematic themes are reinforced over the show’s run, such as the use of light to impart a blinding realization, flower language to inform deeper personalities, even using a literal (not literal) cinema. Symbols such as trains, masks, and mirrors are used constantly and consistently to reinforce the show’s themes, which should be immediately obvious from the opening animation. I’m still kind of stunned that Bloom Into You’s ending theme is such a banger and managed to use an oscillating sine curve in a metaphorical way. These details might be lost without the brilliant layouts, intentionally resembling a stage, which always push the minute differences front and center. As an anime adaptation, Bloom Into You adds so much value in such a subdued, conservative way that it puts uninspired adaptations to shame.

#8 

Thunderbolt Fantasy 2 rounded out the year with a good old new-fashioned Japanese-speaking Chinese-Wuxia Taiwanese puppet show. The novelty of this wild series, like, existing at all, is still incredible to me, but I was really wowed by the new characters and the direction the series went in after the already high standards of the first season. Following the outrageous action and fights of the previous season, I did not expect that season 2’s introductory goon would 1. Live past the first episode 2. So quickly become my favorite swordfighter and 3. Have inarguably the most complete character arc of the entire show thus far. The Princess of Cruelty’s struggle against her inner and outer demons in a unreasonably stacked, desperate situation developed her into easily the most compelling character of the season, and the rest of the cast including a corrupt police officer with extremely disconcerting and bad puppet teeth, a ventriloquist rock-lutist, and a nihilist monk each bring their own unique flavors to the table. The table that they throw the puppets in the air from to make the show. All of the new elements of Thunderbolt Fantasy 2 improved an already strong formula even more, and revealed an emotional depth to the series that I’m excited to see developed further. Some people might not call this anime, but those people haven’t seen Thunderbolt Fantasy for longer than 2 seconds. It’s so anime.

#9

I blasted all available seasons of Star vs the Forces of Evil early in 2018, and it was basically my first foray into straight-up American cartoon magical girl, despite watching all the Japanese ones, which was probably an oversight on my part. That’s because Star Versus is really good, and provided a flavor of magical girl I had been missing out on. I could talk about the excellent sparkle witch aesthetic of the show, fluid animation, and hilarious comedy, but I’d rather spend this blogspace posting Star Butterfly faces. 

#10

A Place Further Than the Universe, or YoriMoi, or my preferred moniker That Antartica Anime, wasn’t on my radar until well after it had finished airing, but it stuck with me for most of the year. Although it’s definitely melodramatic at times, it utilizes this tendency in exactly the right way to enhance the individual characters’ emotional arcs. Even though I was personally sort of taken out of it for many of the girls’ personal trials, :penguin emoji: is obviously thoughtfully written and carefully constructed, and especially knows how to orchestrate an immense emotional reaction with pitch-perfect timing. If there’s one particular aspect this anime has absolute mastery over, it’s hitting that perfect note and cue to create a memorable narrative climax. And for all my bellyaching about not fully relating to some of the characters, Miyake is definitively the #1 qb-relatable character of the year.

Here’s the rest of my list. Don’t @ me about it because if its not on my top ten then it doesnt really count anymore i dont make the rules thats just how it is

11. Yuru Camp

12. Hisone and Masotan

13. Asagao to Kase-san

14. Devilman Crybaby

15. After the Rain

16. Planet With

- friend of the show @queuebae on twitter 

That’s why the 2018 anime of the year award goes to Kaiju Girls 2.

[crookedlibrary]

Lady Of The Bleeding Sap

Day 22: Getting Lost in The Forest

I throw myself outside, away from the yelling coming from the house. And the beatings that left my body in pieces. I moved my body through the park, heading towards the forest that lived along it. It was the only way I could save myself. My heaven from the black and blue memories. And this, my tears flowed freely down my purple cheeks. I had already been beaten a couple days ago but it was now showing. I wasn’t sure why I kept putting up with it. Was it love? Or was it more that kept me hooked to him? Like a drug addict to their choice of drug? All I knew was that I hurt everywhere. And that I was slowing dying. It didn’t truly matter anymore as I ran across the part, pushing my body past its limits. I just couldn’t care. I made it half way across the park, to the trail that would lead me away from the nightmare. Away from the bleeding hope that it would get better. It was all sharp lies I told myself through cracked teeth.

Finally, the forest trail came into view as I ran closer. The opening of the dark woods, where dark voices gathered into whispers; fingerless winds ran through the twisting branches that open into a wild path. I ran right throw, scramming my rage into the twilight night sky. My heart bleeding in pain. It kept pouring out of my eyes but I ignored it and kept running along the moonless path, around and around and through twisting skeleton hands, under harsh brushes. I moved through, clothing being ripped in places, but I pushed my already aching body past its broken point. Not caring how damaged I would be by the end of this. Even when I my body made it closer to the middle of the forest. To the darkest part. The unknown. Even when pointed claws ripped at my bruised skin. I wasn’t sure where I was going. Just that I knew the middle was somewhere around here. I never made it this far before, when I wandered. I always stopped and went back. I had this premonition of dread that something lived and breathed in the woodlands. Something powerful. And that feeling crept down my spine. So I spun around and always went back home. Back to the man with greasy hair, a smile full of graying teeth and a laugh that turned my stomach into nots. But this time, I was going to kept going. To never return again. I couldn’t go back. I just couldn’t. I would be died if I returned. And what was the point? Die by his hands or die in the woods? At least if I died in the woods my body would go back into the earth where it belonged. I found that to be a befitting end then by a demon’s hitting hands.

I had to stop or I wasn’t going to make it. The middle was a lot further then I thought. I slowed my burning scramming body to a stop; placing my hands on my knees, I took in lungful’s of cold icy air. Calming my racing heart. And that’s when a thought popped into my mind. ‘It was a dark twisted fantasy when I fell in love with him but it then it turned into my real reality.’ I fell to my knees, wetting my pants, hands playing in the dirt. Skin turning blue, winter snowflakes falling on my closed eyelids, tears turning into icy ice drops, but I didn’t move. I didn’t think I could anymore. Maybe right here was the place for me to die. Right? I fell for that dark fantasy. For lies and dark nothings I should die because of all that. “NO” I shook my head as I took a breath in and let it out slowly, letting my heart slow to a normal beating. I shivered in the cold. At least I was able to feel the cold again. I couldn’t help but whimper. I didn’t want to go back. And so that’s why I pushed my body up, off that cold ground, took a step and another and then another that moved into a ran. I would run until I couldn’t anymore. I wouldn’t return. Fuck that. I shouldn’t have too. I should be free. I should do what I wanted instead of what he desired. This time, it was going to be about me. Not his wants. Even if that want was to die. I would die on my own terms. So I pushed my legs, pumped my arms and ran deeper into the darkles forest. I passed twisting faces and listened to dead leaves crushing under my feet. I didn’t know when the middle came upon me but I skidded to a stop, my body giving out on me, falling to the ground below. At least the snow was deep enough that my body fell on marshmallow snow. I gasped out with shaking breaths. I lifted my head, my hazel eyes landed on a huge wide tree.

A willow tree stood in the middle of the clearing. Its ashy/gray presence keeping the other trees at a distance; hanging lazy branches hung down and around. The middle of the forest was dark but held an inner light. Because the moonlight shone down on the top of the ash willow. Making it glow which made your eyes widen in wonder from the bloody red sap that ran down its bark. Pooling underneath. Like a sign, maybe a warning? But the sight still left you with dread. But for myself it left me with wonder. It was beautiful in a haunting way. I think this was the spot. My place to stay. I was done. However with the last of my strength, I moved my heavy body towards the tree, moved under the hanging curtains and slid down the bark. My hands and body steeping up the ruby sap into my back. My skin turning a dark pink mess. I landed on my bottom, legs bending under me and I collapsed. I sighed with shutting breath, learning my head against the surprising warm tree. I must be dead somewhere. Because trees weren’t warm. They were usually cold. Only warm in the summer heat. But this willow tree was fire against my freezing body. It felt nice, I smiled and closed my eyes.

“Hello there pretty little flower.” I heard a man’s voice. A voice full of haunting lyrics and sleepless nights. Turning my head, I looked up to find a tall man standing in front of me. I blinked because this wasn’t a type of man you saw every day. Or at all. Only in books or on TV. But here he was. Pale skin as snow, a strong body with muscled arms and a huggable chest that tapered into a narrow waist. My eyes wandered down to his hands. Hard working hands but graceful fingers with nails that ended into sharp points. Those looked deadly. And yet, my heart was beating just a tad harder than it was a moment ago. I needed to look up and not down, so lifting my eyes up and over his smooth polished look, my tear stained eyes landed on his face. A face chiseled out of harsh rock, smoothed into a sharp jawline. Narrow eyes that glowed with sliver fairly light. Lashes black as midnight, and the softest looking lips I’ve ever seen on a man. And his hair?! It was a color that I wasn’t sure I could explain. A color that doesn’t exist. I bit my lower lip, not caring that it hurt. I was going to figure out his hair color. Because in this moment that’s all that really matter. Not the fact that there was a strange man in the middle of the woods or the fact that I was alone. No, it was his hair. But to be honest, it was beautiful hair. It was dark but when the moonlight hit it just right, it had a shine of sliver and violet. That was when I finally noticed the horns that slick back into a point. Those where as dark as shadows. And a smirk that laced his bow lips. “Hello.” I crocked out. I clanged how badly I sounded. As if that matter right now. I shook my damn head because I was being foolish. I didn’t need another man in my life. Hell no.

He looked at me with a raised eyebrow. When men did that, it turned girls into dumbasses. But really, could you blame them? As good looking as this man was, I too would become a dumbass. Any other time. Just not after what I’ve gone through for 5 years. I’ve had enough of men. No matter how beautiful and otherworldly they looked. “You are alone.” He made that into a statement. Thank god I didn’t have to answer. “If you make a wish on that tree...-“ I waited for him to continue. A wish? “It will grant you anything your heart’s desire.” The demon? The Fae? Like man ended his speech in a trusting smile. I knew it was foolish. I knew what this moment would do to me but I took it anyway. I really didn’t want to go back. “Can…can I wish to stay in the forest?”

“Yes.”

“And if I do, does that mean I’ll be giving up my life?”

He cocked his head to the side, starlit hair moving over his shoulder, letting a slightly pointed ear show. I knew it, he was a Fae! I smiled at my thought. With what was going on, I was A; dead or B; dreaming. I hoped for the latter.

“Depends on what your heart truly wants, little red.” That wasn’t really an answer but I guess I didn’t really word my question correctly for a yes or no answer. And why call me red? Maybe because of the sap? “I….” I licked my dry lips. “I…I wanna make a wish then.” I told him with a building strength to my voice. He smiled and I smiled back. I knew I should have asked more questions. I should have done a lot more to save my life. I should have questioned him more. I should of. But the truth is, I didn’t. I was so tired. I could already feel my eye duping. Trying to close on their own. My breath evening out. I felt his touch against my chin, lifting it up so I had to open my eyes to actually look at him. “Make your wish darling girl.” Spoken softly against my ear, warming my cold aching body up. I was under his spell. I leaned my cheek against his hand. “I wish to leave this plane and live.” Mumbling under my breath. Slowly I felt branches moving towards me, hands grapping my body carefully, like I mattered. Pinning my back against the tree, whispers swirling around me, dusting me with moonlight magic. Winds blowing through the long fingers of the tree. Magic gathering as I was wrapped up and up and up into the very tree itself. My eyes closed. Ash and bloody sap falling against them. My bones releasing in a sigh. My lungs breathing branches and my throat filling up with flowers petals. And slowly but surely, my heart’s melody played its last song.

The man smiled in wicked delight, running one of his fingers down the young girls bark like skin. Throwing his head back, he laughed in pure joy. “Silly poor human. Should have known better then to wish upon the death tree.” The moment he met her, he could hear her helpless plea for freedom. Just not the freedom she had wanted. But he did feel pity for the human flower. So even knowing that humans usually just dead, he decided to help her. Because her heart was beautiful, and the tree would care for it. And so, he made her a part of the tree. Forever known as the lady of the forest.

[violetsystems]

#personal

I paid my rent last night.  A small feat for sure in these strange times.  I worked the entire week from home here in my kitchen.  It definitely felt like work.  I was able to video chat my entire staff daily if not more.  Everything is timestamped and recorded in Teams.  The beginning of the week was definitely more stressful than the end.  Most of my friends in music find themselves in dire circumstances.  And here I am years later.  I made the choice to focus on a career and I find myself in the center of a maelstrom at times.  Everybody worries about stability during these catastrophes.  I’m quite literally stuck in place.  For the record all of my necessities are pretty much filled.  That doesn’t really happen overnight or by magic.  But a week after working from home has done some things to the environment.  I spent most of the evenings reorganizing my entire record collection alphabetically.  You don’t think about it until you are thinking of a song.  The internet connection drops.  YouTube is unavailable.  You know you have this record somewhere.  Now for the most part it’s just there.  I spent so many years just sitting in LP bars in Korea.  These owners have their entire record collection organized on the wall.  You write down what you’d like to hear and they see if they have it.  I spent an entire vacation in Seoul once just listening to Blur and watching the olympics by myself.  Now I’m just at home by myself.  I don’t drink alcohol anymore.  I drink plenty of coffee.  I upped the subscription to an extra bag every three weeks.  It seemed like a logical tweak.  My own supply chain as an adult is pretty flawless.  Last week a lot of things were still ambiguous.  China had a swift, unified action.  America is America.  Chicago is even more so.  I ran in the park a couple of days before the ban.  People just don’t understand social distancing.  There was a picture from a major trail crowded with people like the first day of spring.  It looked like a humans of late capitalism post.  I live two blocks from an industrial corridor.  Run past there and you are in the middle of the medical district.  Foot traffic is extremely minimal.  Which is to say you can still run.  I can also use the elliptical in the back room.  It fell victim to the constant flow of organization at work here in my home.  It’s now an exercise room and walk in closet.  My kitchen office windows overlook the train platform.  My neighbors see and hear what I do for a living now.  My isolated commentary is reserved for Hearthstone matches.  I still wave hello to people even if I don’t want to.  My rent check is available three days early.  This is all possible because I still have a job.  Some people are not so lucky.  Nobody is promised tomorrow.  It is what is.

I’ve worked the same job for years at this point.  The entire landscape has changed overnight in IT.  Anybody in the field knew that this was the future.  Nobody really understood how quickly it would come.  Infrastructure is something you build over time.  Much like a supply chain.  I have had to wrap my head around some seismic changes in how we do things.  Maybe somebody else would be overwhelmed.  I’m a little less so after this week.  A lot of people on this planet don’t have their shit together.  They don’t have a basic skeleton of a goal or an idea.  And some brands have been around for years.  It’s important to understand this entire thing is both inevitable and surmountable. It’s not the first time I’ve had to contemplate distance learning.  MIT recently opened up their archives for educational purposes.  The idea of school and schooling is some heady shit.  Especially when it comes to distance.  Some parent on a morning talk show had said that if you really apply yourself it doesn’t matter where you learn.  It’s the structure behind it.  There’s a lot of creative thinking going on where I am.  I’ve been immersed in that environment for years.  Just like I’ve lived in Chicago longer than most people ever give me credit for.  I walk the streets freely when I want to.  These days I don’t really want to.  I’m definitely not as restless as I once was.  Staying at home the last few months has been both comfortable and maddening.  Now the packages drop freely when they don’t get delayed.  I wake up at seven and throw the curtains.  Make some coffee and sort through my email.  Saturdays are even worse.  I still sit down here and write through the rest of the distance.  Nobody knows how distant but me.  I can’t run away to New York anytime soon to pace the streets.  I have a porch that is occupied by feral cats more often than not.  I have an apartment with a well bathed calico mutant as well.  And in some ways it’s all different the way it plays out.  Whereas maybe I was exhausted by everything and everyone, now I have nowhere to go.  The emotions don’t pile up as much working from home as they do commuting.  And it sucks commuting in the winter.  I walk to work sometimes in the summer.  Before this crisis hit, I was feeling restless about everything.  Now I feel a new set of skills.  I’m a lot calmer than I would normally be in this situation.  I wonder sometimes if in a different timeline I’d be completely fucked.  There’s still a deadly virus dancing around intermittently.  For the record I feel healthier than I’ve ever felt.  I also wash my hands and wear gloves when I leave the house.

I’ve crawled through some dark times before.  I spent years organizing my thoughts about it here.  Over time I can glance back at who I was then versus now.  I didn’t set aside any time before.  I don’t know that I really planned much of anything.  I’m a very adaptable person.  But I’ve evolved to plan enough to have room for grace.  When I have a creative idea it’s much less work to act on it.  I set up my MPC next to the turntable for once.  I have a full weekend to connect it to the mixer.  I’ve moved my books closer to my kitchen and begun to rearrange their placing.  I don’t go digging in boxes for something I packed away under duress.  When I close my eyes and think about how long it would take me to pack it feels like hours not days.  All this comes from time being stuck alone.  You start to carve out the necessities.  Coffee is like that.  Whether you care about single origin or not.  How many grams of coffee do you grind?  Do you use a coffee scale?  Does the taste really matter to you?  You spend time making things a daily routine.  You never think about how much better everything gets over time.  That is until you are stuck on an ambiguous lockdown in the world’s most flawed democracy.  I put in a lot of work to make a space for myself.  Now all I have to do is put all this distance to work.  Which sounds groan worthy for sure.  But if we really think about paying it forward there is a lot at stake.  It is possible to get through this.  It will suck more for some than it will for others.  For some of us things have been sucking more profoundly for years than others.  I feel like I am just getting back on my feet after years of being beat down by myself and others.  And here I am dealing with the ambiguity of it all only to having to accept more.  There are a lot of things in my life that are not as cloudy under the circumstances.  But the most profound thing I can say is that nothing really changes much for me.  Which feels maddening to say because I’ve been feeling this way for a long time.  What’s another month of isolation?  For me I still have to think about it.  The show must go on.  Virtually at this point.  What is a virtual campus?  What is a virtual relationship even?  What does a virtual commitment look like?  They say love is blind.  I say I see you often enough to know I care about you.  Some of you more than others.  I care enough to stay at home for the rest of the weekend.  Nobody is making me.  But you do cross my mind when I think about leaving.  That and the city and state’s legal issued order to stay inside.  <3 Tim

[bonesandpoemsandflowers]

I used to go to various spooky cities pretty regularly, just for fun. Aesthetic, fun, spooky dates and spooky love, tres goth, whatever. The past few years I have had much less time for fun, and that’s been mostly on purpose.

But the LAST time I went somewhere spooky for fun, it was Savannah, not New Orleans, in, hmm, summer 2015? Yes. The weekend before my best friend died, you see, not that I knew that was going to happen when I--well--I’m getting head of myself.

Bunch of highly personal spiritual shit under the cut. Don’t click if that’s not your bag. If it is your bag, I hope you like skeletons.

I grew up Santera, right. I was dedicated to Oshun at an early age. My mother got more into Vodou as time went on, and in Miami, at least, those lines are really blurry. But like all kids that grow up in bomb ass mystery religions, I went through a rebellious Wiccan early teen and-it-harm-none hippie dippe phase. As you do, honestly. It’s a thing.

And then, as an adult, for most of my adult life, I was an atheist. I never talk about this, and I kind of hem and haw and skirt the issue of what exactly I do now, despite the occasional witchy post. I was never an obnoxious atheist, and arguably I was never a really good atheist, because it’s not so much that I didn’t believe, but that I decided I shouldn’t, and that’s not the same thing. But time went on and I managed to bury that kernel of belief very deep. I didn’t want to come across as credulous. Give me my GMOs, give me my artificial sweeteners, give me all the fucking science and none of your anti-science bullshit that you wrap up in absurd and appropriated tidbits of mysticism.

(and a lot of that stands, actually. give me my GMOs.)

So: I was an atheist, and I was trying very hard.

Certain powers, you see, are patient.

I kept the aesthetic and my cultural pride, though--Oshun and Erzulie always got my hushed little prayers in quick mind whispers. Oshun got votive candles no matter how far from belief I allegedly got, and to Erzulie I gave my skin--and this was a devotional act, full stop, despite everything else I claimed to not believe. And the ocean, I never stopped worshiping the ocean in one sense or another, and even my poetic obsession with the ocean is devout.

however.

however.

Someone I shoved out of the picture entirely.

Certain powers, you see, are indulgent. They’ll wait for your silly little human insecurities to play out. up to a point.

In my dreams since I was a child I have been friends with a decomposing skeleton wearing a tophat. As I got older I recognized who that was supposed to be.

I don’t even remember when or specifically why I threw out my magic shit and put my Baron bust in a closet, but I did. I couldn’t get rid of the Baron Fabulous bust, even though I tried to make myself want to do that, so I climbed on top of my kitchen counter and shoved it into the back of a pantry far too high for me to reach.

And then and only then did I make any real progress in pretending to be a legit atheist. Out of sight, out of mind, out of life, motherfucker!

So the point is, I went to Savannah in full on sneering mode. “Hah! This hotel claims to be haunted! What a quaint marketing strategy. Midnight one man show of ghost stories in a historic theater? Sure, I like atmosphere and aren’t people so suggestible?. After hours tour of a huge famous cemetery? Hahaha sure whatever that’s cute, thanks for booking us for that, babe. Let me prance through here and not say hello and leave no offerings, let me laugh and sneer and make fun.

Anyway, so then I had the single most terrifying weekend of my entire life.

I have had a lot of mundane real life scary shit happen to me. And I’ve had a bunch of weird shit happen to me. And yet I have never, ever told anyone the full story of what happened to me in Savannah. I can’t. Even if I sat you down, looked you right in the eye, and told you everything, and you believed me--I would not be able to explain to you the DEPTH of everything, how it felt. What it meant.

And what played out soon after.

I joke about this weekend, but only because I’m making fun of myself. For being an idiot. And a rude idiot, too. So disrespectful.

I took most of this in stride at the time--sort of. I flailed around and I panicked and I knew I had to make some changes. Years after I had put him there, I scaled my kitchen counters, pulled the Baron out of my pantry closet, put him up on a prominent bookshelf in my apartment and said, basically, “MY BAD I’M SO SORRY.”

I mention this, sometimes, and I mention my best friend dying, and I think some people think that I’m implying a cause and effect relationship there. Absolutely not. In no way whatsoever. I don’t think magic works that way at all, and, frankly, I’m insulted you think my deity so petty.

I knew someone was going to die. I knew. I don’t mean in a nervous, jittery, “am i losing my mind?” kind of way. I don’t mean in an anxious gnawing preoccupation kind of way. I don’t mean in a doubtful dreading way. I don’t mean paranoia. I don’t mean fear. I don’t mean anxiety.

I mean that I knew. I knew someone close to me was going to die. I knew that was nothing I could, or should, do about it.

I was being warned, not as a threat, but as a kindness.

I knew. When we called the cops and the cops eventually called us and the door was getting bust open at 3 something AM, I knew. I was there and fully awake and well dressed.

Why? Because I fucking knew.

I didn’t put on pajamas that night. I showered and changed into a fresh set of clothes.

“What are you dressed for? Come to bed.”

Fine, I’ll come to bed. But I won’t sleep.

And I didn’t. Because I knew. I knew I was just going to have to get up and get dressed again, and I knew why.

And so it was, and at 2 something AM, we got the call, and I soberly drove us over to my best friend’s neighborhood, and I knew.

Did it still hurt? like a MOTHERFUCKER. like you will not believe unless you’ve lost someone that close to you, and if you have, I am sorry.

So it wasn’t the terrifying weekend that brought me back.

It was that warning, that kindness. That mercy.

And oh, did it still hurt. My friend who died was my best friend and also my best social outlet. We used to go dancing every weekend and he was a b boy in addition to being a personal trainer and a huge nerd. I adored him. Z adored him. And he adored us.

So his death was a big deal. And his death, so close to my personal decision to come back to magic, that was a big lifestyle change.

I’ve written about that before, and how then I slowly became a hermit in a tower. Hermitage. Spiritual hermitage along with the writing, along with the increase in physical discipline. I have learned many things. Not half as much as I’d like? Sure. Nonetheless.

But there was a lot of terror, at first. And a whole  lot of other emotions. And I haven’t sorted that out yet.

Here’s what I’ve only just realized, though.

That weekend, and what came soon after, and that process I went through? That is a bonafide reawakening, my friends. That is some born again shit. That might seem obvious in the telling, but it WASN’T, as it was happening.

You don’t realize that change is going to stick, sometimes, and even when you say “things will be different now,” you don’t know what that’s going to mean.

and don’t get me wrong: I was, for a time, VERY distracted from the spiritual quest.

There are shamanistic traditions that talk about cracking open the head as a form of initiation.

Now, I’ve had my head literally cracked open--or more accurately, carefully drilled open by a highly skilled neurosurgeon. So, check, I guess.

But when I look back at the absolute, like--

Everything that’s happened since then.

So much has happened since then.

And so much happened as a result of that weekend, and the thing is, it was a total confluence of events that brought me to Savannah, nothing of my doing, really. A hottie booked me a romantic trip and so I went, duh. Wouldn’t you?

But so here I am, all these years later, which isn’t even really that many years later, and my world is so fundamentally different. So much has changed and I didn’t even notice it changing at the time. And so much has remained the same, too, and I am forever grateful for those precious constant things. I love you, my constant star, and I always will.

But body, soul, aesthetic, skill set, academic knowledge, everything! So much is different! So! fucking! much! AND I lost all my material possessions!

And here I am, booking a hotel, grabbing a friend, and making my way to New Orleans. Just for the weekend. If a confluence of events brought me TO Savannah, it almost feels like this has been the opposite. I have been so stressed lately, about everything. I didn’t think I was going to be able to swing this, period, let alone last minute. But you know, really? So much fell into place for me, here and now. There’s been so much luck. So much grace.

So even if, like, nothing happens--even if I somehow manage to have the most boring weekend ever, which I’m SO not going to do, but whatever, even if--there’s still something, something...

An initiation? Not exactly, I don’t think. A rite? A proof? I don’t know, exactly.

A chance to apologize? Well, yes. Always more of those.

But I think of the last couple of years, and I think of the future plans I’m trying for.

And I feel, more than anything

That my divinity is loving to the point of indulgence, and understanding, and kind--

but ultimately, ultimately, if he holds out his bony hand

I still have to step up and take it.

Ten years ago, in my dreams, he asked me a question.

And only now am I finally saying:

yes.

What does saying yes look like? What will that mean? I can’t see the shape of it yet. And it honestly kind of doesn’t matter.

yes, yes, yes.

[moriangelhere]

So during the short amount of time I did sleep, I had a “funny” dream

Not so much of a “ha-ha” dream, but you know a dream is a dream. So in this dream, I was on familiar ground (but now that I think about it, it wasn’t familiar at all) and I was hearing low whispers. I didn’t know what they were saying and I honestly didn’t notice them. Kind of how like your nose is in the field of your vision but you just don’t notice most of the time. I think I was at a party because there were so many people there and it was hard to breathe because it was packed and uncomfortable. I’m no good with parties or get togethers. Not even with my family and they’ve known me all my life lol so it’s...weird. Not being comfortable in your skin and then having to life with it for years and then be surrounded by all these people who you’re kind of force to deal with. I’m ok if I’m with someone I know or maybe three, that way in case one or two runs off I can still have someone to chill with (if there are no pets around). But back to the dream. I want to say I know the people there but shit I can’t even point out my extended family faces, let alone give you their names. I’m pretty much trash like that. But in this case, with the dream and all, I guess it didn’t matter. All their faces were missing or distorted but if they were like my older sister then I could tell without seeing their face. It was normal. It was loud and everyone had a place to go, someone to talk to or something to do while I just kind of drifted. I don’t remember moving my legs but I was moving. I tried not to go to the backyard because I had a feeling something bad would happen, I tried not to even think about it. It’s usually wolves or foxes as big as wolves or something else threatening like dinosaurs or the government for whatever reason. My best friend was the only comfort but it was short lived because he brought his date... Now, I’m not entirely sure if it was my best friend because instead of having his awesome hair he had blonde hair that no grown man (at least in this area) would wear. It was a style some little boys would have if they have straight hair. We watched something together that was entertaining but he wasn’t enjoying his time with me as much as his date that he left with. Insert Mr. Brightside song here. I had my wrists chained but I was holding one of those red plastic cups. I drank from it and it tasted terrible. I saw the cup had poison written on it and I dropped it. My throat tightened up and my tongue turned to ash.

It was then that I realized that I was in the backyard facing the woods and I looked up and knew a storm was coming. I turned around and the place was abandoned. As if everyone just disappeared and when I blinked I was engulfed in the woods and mist. The storm was much closer and this is when I noticed the whispers because they were louder this time. I felt like danger was behind me and dared not look so I slowly started to walk, the a faster pace. Faster. Faster. And even faster to the point I was running with iron in my mouth that miraculously returned to normal. When I thought I got away, I thought to myself that maybe it was a mistake to not have join the track team in high school. Maybe then it would feel like I’ve actually done something with my life, for the world. I was getting depressed and all of a sudden the grim reaper crawls out of my shadow. They (it had both a male and female voices) had a oddly shaped weapon that was like a combination of the cross, a gun and a sword. That’s my best description for it anyways. The robe went from the darkest of blackest to the lightest and with the hood removed the skeleton wore a flower crown with crystals. The flower was black and after looking up the type of flower I found out it’s poisonous so can’t make a flower crown with those flowers myself. The crystals were also black but each crystal had like a different bit of colors on them and they were also shaped differently. The grim reaper extended their hand and asked:

“Do you accept your fate?”

I know there’s a saying or a quote or whatever about meeting death as if they’re a longtime friend but I felt somewhat insulted and reach for a branch behind me to fight them with but what I grabbed wasn’t a branch. It was a door handle to a car. I was about to get in the car with my new bf. He didn’t look happy and where we we’re was somewhere downtown or a city idk someplace with a lot of buildings at night and it was raining. I got in and we drove in silence. It was cold and he wouldn’t turn the heat on. When he finally started to talk he was complaining how I’ve been acting lately and that I need to just let go already. He was going on and on but his voice became muffled as if we were underwater. I looked out the car and holy shit we were and the car was leaking but he didn’t seem to notice. I starting loosing my shit, my vision and I had to hold my breath. When I couldn’t, I started to drown. I had a mouthful of seawater at one point which turned into vomit. Lovely I know. I was in my bathroom, naked, bleeding from the stomach and I felt dizzy. I laid on the floor and I felt my skin sticking to it. Two knocks at the door and everything is silent. The door opened and there stood death again, only this time they had a noose and wrapped it around my neck and said:

“You have two choices. I collect you or I’ll collect what you will become. There is no choice but death.” The proceeded to drag me down the stairs and hit my head on every step untill I woke up because my dog  hates storms and woke me up. So that happened. I’ve got another math test today and next week will be my last week in school. Will have to set up for summer classes and find another job. Thinking on it now and I haven't moved an inch. Would take myself out since I’m trash but you know... That’s a no no. So *shrug* Hope everyone has a good week. Your friends and family should respect and love you. You are not alone in this world and as much as it is to make sure you’re ok... Don’t forget to check on others.