#randomly found one of her videos in which she reads and talks about her poetry and books she's reading and the way she talks

[deadrlngers]

looks like i just fell in love with an italian milf on youtube ksdjfdkj

[waywardwrestlewritingwaif]

The Call of the Wild Woman

Just some fluff featuring the green-haired goddess of NXT. 

Pairing: Shotzi Blackheart x OFC

Word count: 2,412

Content advisory: brief sexual references, language

The first time I met Shotzi, I instantly liked her. We shook hands and she gave me this smile that made me feel like I was having a great day, even though there hadn’t been anything exceptional about it to that point. I was a little overwhelmed with all the people I was meeting, trying to get a sense of their look, their personality, their character, but I knew from our introduction that I was going to remember her for years, even if I never saw her again. 

Of course, Shotzi’s a memorable person. Tall, tattooed, pierced and sporting that incredible acid green hair, it would be hard not to remember her. But I felt like I’d remember her vivacious eyes and confident smile just as much as the things that made her stand out from a mile away. My whole first day getting led around the performance center, I found my eyes drawn back to her whenever she appeared. 

I had just been moved to NXT to take over as their chief makeup artist. I’d been working on Raw for close to a year when the position opened up and I’d been so excited and nervous about whether I’d get the job that I felt as if I’d barely slept for two months. My boyfriend and I actually broke up while I was waiting to hear back and I hardly noticed. We’d been struggling since his work had moved him out of state, and things had just sort of ended like a wave washing over a sandcastle. I wasn’t bitter but I was lonely. And that, along with my desire to show that I could run a team in high pressure situations, meant that I threw myself headlong into the new job. I tried to keep some time to see friends but work seemed more rewarding. 

By the time I’d been there a few months, my circle of friends was largely made up of coworkers. There were always birthdays or barbecues or other things going on, and it was fun to be able to dish about work without having to explain a lot of background detail. I was enjoying myself. But, yeah, I was definitely lonely. 

I dropped a couple of hints here and there that I wouldn’t mind being fixed up with any single male friends and a couple of the women made suggestions. A couple of the men did too. But none of it went anywhere. I was too busy and too awkward to make a first move and if any of the suggested bachelors ever thought to check me out on social media, it never resulted in a phone call. 

Shotzi was always one of my favorite models. I loved transforming her from the natural beauty she was to the wild child who appeared on tv every week. And while we’d talk about work, she also had the greatest gifts as a storyteller, and the crazy stories to complement her skills. She’d been raised around bikers and conservative immigrants at the same time. She’d worked as a late night host for a horror movie tv broadcast before she became a wrestler. It was like she’d been born to perform and had found a way to do so while still being herself. 

I found myself sitting at home, always alone, watching the silly and shocking horror movies she’d recommend to me, or tracking down music by bands she’d mention or whose shirts she’d wear. When she’d worked on tv, she’d developed a loyal following of teenage boys and girls who used to do everything from message her begging her to go out with them to sending her love letters and poetry to showing up outside the station in the hopes of meeting her. It sounded both creepy and sad but I sympathized a little with her starry-eyed fans. She was a kind of dazzling whirlwind of a person and, indeed, I was dazzled by her. 

One day, I’d showed up at work after a particularly inauspicious Tinder date. The guy had picked me up for what was supposed to be coffee and a walk but had insisted that we stop by his friend’s place so he could get some pot. The three of us shared a joint and I assumed we were about to leave when another joint appeared. Being a lightweight, I declined but the two of them proceeded to smoke it themselves. Then the friend’s roommate came home from band practice. She pulled out her bong and that was getting passed around while she played us the hour-long piece of meandering prog that they’d created that day. All three of them seemed really entranced by what they could hear in the music, which I was pretty certain they were imagining. 

About an hour later, my date and his friend started playing video games. I quietly tried to suggest that we leave and at least grab that coffee because I was clinging to the hope that maybe the guy, who was way cuter than I’d counted on, might have some redeeming qualities. He assured me we could leave in a minute. He and his friend were completely absorbed in their game, while the roommate randomly started telling me about how her mother had given birth to her at a Grateful Dead concert in the eighties, after following the band on tour for years. She didn’t seem to care much if I responded and would focus entirely on her phone every minute she wasn’t speaking. 

Eventually, the roommate had begun to complain loudly that she was hungry and the guys agreed that we should order pizza. I handed over some money and advised them that I was a vegetarian, only to be surprised by a pizza that arrived looking like it had been fished out of a trash can, topped with pepperoni and cheese. I knew the place they’d ordered from and some quick math in my head made it clear that I had paid for basically all the pizza. They assured me that I could just pull the pepperoni off. 

I was about to leave but my date insisted that we could head out in a few minutes to find me something I might actually want to eat. He was cute enough that I‘d agreed to stay just a little longer. A few more guys showed up to buy pot. Then friends of the roommate‘s had shown up with beer and put the stereo on so loud I thought the ceiling might cave in. I ended up leaving at eleven without even saying goodbye. When I got home, I realized that I‘d lost my house keys and had to ask a neighbor to help me break into my apartment.

I told this story to my coworkers to a chorus of loud “nos'' and peals of laughter. Others shared some bad date stories but this one did seem pretty dire. Everyone commiserated and it did make me feel better, like the night hadn’t been a total washout because I had a good story to tell and, as a couple of the girls pointed out, dates I had in the future were likely to seem pretty good in comparison. 

“You should have taken some of the pot!” Shotzi exclaimed to a round of agreement. 

“I wish I’d thought of that.”

It was a few days later that I was prepping Shotzi’s makeup and I noticed that she was a bit quieter than usual. She wasn’t unfriendly but there was something off. 

“You ok?” I asked quietly, sweeping my brush out to give her the perfect cat’s eye flip. 

“Yeah, I’m great.”

She didn’t sound great, or at least not in the enthusiastic way she usually did. I felt my neck getting tense as I tried to lead the conversation for the first time, knowing I wasn’t nearly as good at it as she was. I didn’t want to push her to tell me what was on her mind and at the same time, I felt like my forced smalltalk was probably grating on her nerves. I wanted to be entertaining but I lacked the stories and the flair. 

Finally, when I announced that I was finished, she stood up just a few inches from me. I expected her to tell me to wish her luck, which I always did, but she didn’t move, her bright eyes focused on mine. 

“Do you want to go out some time this weekend?” She asked. 

“Like, hang out? Sure.”

She shook her head. “No. Do you want to go on a date with me?”

I sucked in a sharp breath, not knowing quite what to say. I fell back on the default. “Um, I don’t actually date women.”

“Oh.” She looked sad for the first time and a little surprised. “I’m sorry, I read some singles wrong. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable or anything.”

“Not at all. I mean, it’s no big deal. I just… you’re gorgeous. I’m just not…”

“It’s fine,” she insisted, extending a hand as if to pat my arm but withdrawing it before she did. “Please, forget I ever said anything.”

Of course, I couldn’t forget that. In fact, I couldn’t even get it out of my head. I’d always dated men. I’d known women who were bisexual and lesbian but none of them had ever expressed an interest in me and I hadn’t found myself attracted to them. But Shotzi was attractive. She was stunning. And the more I thought about that first reaction I’d had to her, the more it seemed similar to the way I’d reacted to men I’d been involved with in the past. I just hadn’t noticed the similarity because she was a woman and I wasn’t into women. 

But maybe I was into one woman. 

She stayed friendly with me, although she didn’t linger as long in the makeup chair regaling me with tales of her rock ‘n’ roll childhood or films that had made her who she was. I hadn’t even realized that she had been lingering before. I just thought we’d been having great conversations. We had been having great conversations. Had I been sending the wrong signals?

I knew that I had marveled at how beautiful and unique she was. I’d gushed, really. But I’d been so floored by her that I felt like I had to let off some steam in the form of compliments or I’d never be able to focus on anything else. That didn’t change after the “asking me out” incident. The fact that I couldn’t release any of my thoughts made it harder to think about anything. I’d see her and I’d spend ten minutes feeling like kind of an idiot, then half an hour thinking about her chatoyant eyes, about the perfect heart shape of her face, or her full lips. 

It was a few weeks later that I caught myself staring at her from the safety of the shadows while she prepared to go out for a match. I’d often stared at her body and I figured that it was because she had the kind of body that every woman wanted to have: perfect curves, toned limbs, smooth skin… Looking at her in that moment, though, I wasn’t so sure about my motives. Was I wishing that I had those taut thighs or was I wishing that I knew what it felt like to drag my lips along them, to feel her shudder at the sensation of my breath on her sensitive flesh? 

Her match was thrilling, as her matches almost always were. She was whipping around the place looking completely out of control, although we all knew she wasn’t. The more danger she put herself in, the more she seemed to glow with internal electricity. It was no wonder that the company was already treating her like a star. You’d have to be dead not to get drawn in by her. But it occurred to me as I watched her that I was more drawn in than others. 

When I saw her come backstage, I retreated to my makeup room and counted down what felt like enough time to allow her to unwind, shower and change before I made my way over to the locker room. 

“Hi there,” I greeted her, a little shyly. 

She glanced up and gave me a big smile while she patted her hair dry. 

“Hey you.”

“So, if the offer is still open, I’d like to say yes.”

She arched her elegant brows and gave me a coy smile. “Now what offer would that be?”

“If you still want to, then, yes, I would like to go on a date with you.”

“Interesting,” she drawled. “What brought about this change of heart?”

“You did.”

She bats her eyes and points theatrically at her chest. “Moi?”

I couldn’t help but smile. The light in her eyes told me she was happy but she still wanted to make me work for it a little. Fair enough.

“Ever since I met you, I’ve found all these things- movies, music, all sorts of stuff- that I just never thought of checking out because I either didn’t know about them or because I just never thought I’d be into them. And the more I think about it, the more I think that I might have made a lot of decisions about what I like just because it was what I saw everyone else doing.”

“Well that’s cool, but I’m not a movie or a book.”

“No. You’re this incredibly cool, funny, exciting, sexy person who I love being around and who has me thinking about all sorts of things I hadn’t considered.”

“Ok. How would you feel about a midnight picnic at an old shack I found near the river?” She grinned. 

“Will you hold my hand if I get scared?”

“I promise.”

I gave a little laugh and stepped closer to her, cupping her cheek in one of my hands and marvelling at how perfectly it fit there. Unable to resist the temptation, I leaned in and pressed my lips softly against hers. And immediately, a delightful shiver ran through every part of my body. 

When we separated, she gave me an almost coquettish smile and laced her arm through mine, steering us out of the locker. 

“You know,” I mused, “you don’t seem really surprised by this.”

“I’m not,” she responded with a wink. “I knew you’d come around.”

[comradelup]

fuck it. balance youtuber au because i’ve been thinking about it

(modern au with no magic but still elves/dwarves/etc)

the twins have a joint channel but they post things together as often as they make videos on their own. they do vlogs, story times, and challenge videos both together and not, but do stuff with fashion/makeup together. taako does cooking on his own and lup does chemistry experiments that involve fire more often than not. if someone says they like the twins’ videos it’s a wild card as to what they watch them for, but everyone ends up liking all of their content because who can hate the twins? they have a lot of “annoying influencer” energy but are actually really nice to fans/people in general and donate a lot of their Youtube Money to charities and stuff (all of the ipre does this too because fuck rich people except for them)

magnus’ channel is mostly woodworking/construction projects. he does occasional story times and in every one he’s carving and/or painting a wooden duck. he does vlogs too and half of them are him buying more woodworking stuff (idk shit about it so idk what he’d get lol) and the other half have a part where he sees someone walking a dog and him going to meet them. almost every video includes/mentions julia and people make “magnus talking about julia” compilations bc he loves his wife and talks about her all the time. he’s very positive in general and everyone loves how he’s a human golden retriever

merle’s channel is 99% gardening, 1% collating with the others. he made one joke along the lines of plant fucking and it was not serious at all but his subscribers/followers made into such a big joke that he makes at least one joke per video except for when his kids are in the video, which is when he makes it suuuper educational and fun and wholesome. mookie tries to eat the plants and play with the soil and mavis tells her dad about what she’s learned about biology in school. also he puts “(emotional)” and “(not clickbait)” at the end of video titles randomly despite knowing what they mean

barry’s channel is science-centric (yes he collabs with lup frequently) but about more feilds of science. sometimes he goes on rants about theoretical physics like a madman a la bdg’s unraveled series and sometimes he makes videos titled “making the volcano kitchen experiment but the size of a kiddie pool (emotional).” he also has a series about paranormal activity/cryptids, stuff like “why ghosts should be and are real” and “my top five favorite pieces of bigfoot evidence” and like i said this is a no magic au but he once was asked in a q&a about what he’d do if he was a lich and gave a surprisingly detailed response? people were really confused but intrigued?? did barry invent magic???

lucretia 100% has an art channel, but she also writes prose and poetry in her free time and sometimes reads them for videos. she posts speedpaints of her work (digital and traditional) with her telling her process/inspiration or doing story times as the background audio. she had a period of time where she started writing a whole novel in her spare time (basically the balance story but different characters) and all her videos were her making concept art. her fans loved it and boosted it to the point where it actually got published, so now she’s a best selling author with a seven book series. now she keeps making videos of her concept art for other book ideas (the other arcs) with her infodumping about the characters/plot/etc

davenport doesn’t actually have a channel, but has been in the background of all the others’ videos to the point where he’s treated like a cryptid and has a small fanbase of his own. he’s mostly in merle’s videos (because they’re dating) and magnus’ vlogs (because magnus Loves His Friends) but he’s been in at least a handful of everyone’s videos. he makes a twitter and instantly gets thousands of followers. he tweets the most random shit at the most random times and half of them become memes. people find out he’s a professor at the college the rest of them met at and everyone looses it

kravitz is in a similar position as davenport, but he was convinced to start a channel. he mostly does stuff involving antiques because he collects them, so he does haul videos of what he bought or thrifted and videos of him restoring them as he looks up how old they were and what random shit they were used for and stuff. people make compilations of him getting off topic and going on a tangent about taako then realizing he just rambled for ten minutes and getting flustered. he also plays a handful of classical instruments and makes occasional collabs with lup + barry

despite having completely different channels they’re all friends??? people didn’t know at first but they found out through davenport and kravitz “this one guy who i think is dating taako but i’m not sure and idk his name” showing up in everyone’s videos. from then on they started collabing more often and it’s really fun to see them outside of their element. lup once almost burnt down magnus’ workshop while making a chemistry video with him. taako tried to teach kravitz how to make macaroons (keyword: tried) and kravitz talked about this new antique shop he found the whole time. barry went on and on and on about biology while gardening with merle, who tried to follow along but failed and ended up making fun of all the scientific names for plants

they call themselves the red robes after the main characters in lucretia’s novel (they’re not similar to the characters but there’s seven of them and six youtubers + one davenport)

they once did a big group collab where the twins dressed everyone up in high fashion outfits and lucretia painted a big portrait of all of them. it was very wholesome but also had a lot of lup and taako arguing over what accessory fits who and “no this person should do their hair like this!” and at one point magnus and kravitz just dipped to go play cards and talk about dogs

speaking of wholesome angus has a channel of his own which is mostly booktube with him getting halfway through a mystery novel, predicting the ending, and being 100% correct. he’s done videos with the others and is kinda associated with them but not totally, and is often lovingly referred to as the nephew to the rest of them

killian and carey don’t have a channel but are in the bg of magnus’ videos often. they were referred to as “magnus’ lesbian friends” until they got popular on instagram and became an internet power couple. johann has a small channel and a soundcloud he plays violin on and did one (1) collab with lup and it made him blow up overnight. avi has a semi-popular twitter and is mostly known as johann’s bf. sloane and hurley have a channel about drag racing/cars in general and don’t show their faces and go by the raven and ram

i was trying to think of who’d have a gaming channel and it’s 100% graham, who casually mentions that he’s friends with Pro Wrestler Jess The Beheader

lucas has a science focused channel similar to barry’s where he tries to be educational and ends up being annoying/kind of wrong about it. barry has a mini series called “lucas miller is a bitch here’s why” and it’s him disproving lucas’ theories with a deadpan expression and generally being better at science than him

remember when i said taako and lup have influencer energy despite being nice? yeah, lydia and edward are like that but they’re actually annoying. they have a popular makeup/fashion channel and lup and taako have gotten into slight drama with them over how the wonderland twins have been rude to them and the how the red robe twins are “jealous.” the internet is divided over who likes which pair of twins better

lup learns that greg fucking grimauldis (who the twins knew in high school) has a popular twitter/insta platform and tweets the “i am to collect” speech out of nowhere from everyone’s pov. taako tweets the video he took of him telling her and her immediately going “no fucking way that ASSHOLE is getting away with what he did to me” and opening twitter. it becomes a meme and he pays her back and changes his social media handles to “gregfuckinggrimauldis”

i can’t think of anything else because i don’t know enough about youtube but yeah.

[molnlycke]

100 DAYS OF SUNLIGHT BY ABBIE EMMONS REVIEW

As a disclaimer I want to say that I found the Youtube channel of Abbie Emmons by one of her ‘write with me’ videos. Following that I watched some of her WritersLifeWednesdays vlogs and thought, this woman has tremendous passion and work put into her craft. She actually gives valuable advice, and the themes of her videos are pretty good. So when I saw that she has a novel of her own published, I wanted to see how she incorporates the stuff she talks about into practical work. This is how I started reading her debut novel: 100 Days of Sunlight.

I was curious, okay?

But oh man, what is this?

This book… I’m sorry it’s just so bad. The mess of glaring problems, plotholes, the …characterisation. Abbie Emmons says every good story is character driven (which I wholeheartedly stand by if it is executed well!!!) but what should I get from this, honestly?

There are too many things screaming PROBLEMATIC here.

But let’s start at the beginning.

The exposition––the first chapter’s building don’t make no sense. It has a twist in it alright, but why start with something that turns out to be a dream (or a scrap of a memory in this case) of the actual past, only to get dumped with everything else that also happened following that scene? All of this is told from the protagonist’s reminiscing of said happening.

- To be clear the book starts with the scene of an accident–the accident in which the protagonist, Tessa loses her sight. A drunk driver with a pickup truck runs the red light crashing into the car Tessa and her grandmother are in. Soon it turns out that’s only a recurring nightmare and she’s been home for one or two weeks (maybe? I don’t remember precisely). By this time she has already lost her sight. Tessa runs the audience over all that happened after the accident (basically in those weeks she got discharged from the hospital etc. etc.) Now my question is why not start the book from the accident itself? It all gets narrated either way.

The next problem is the way first Tessa’s grandparents, and then the WHOLE BOOK just downplays consent. Why? Why would you do that?

- Tessa’s grandparents “know better what’s good for her than she does”–that’s an actual quote from the novel btw. Nothing glaringly alerting in that, I mean adults often have this way of thinking about children. Until… they try to arrange a stranger to help Tessa with transcribing her work. Tessa is a poet with a blog where she posts her work on schedule. Ever since the accident, she doesn’t feel like writing (or blogging for that matter). She’s shut herself off from the virtual world, doesn’t touch her laptop, nor speaks with her internet friends. (Because ofc she’s homeschooled, doesn’t like to go out at all and only has internet friends in the first place.) She’s in her room for most of the day, cries a lot and tries to cope. Whether her coping is good or bad I’m not qualified to say, but she thinks of herself as selfish, lazy, cynical, and depressed most of the time––everything she never wanted to be, things hates with every fibre of her being. She blames herself and basically detests life for beating her down to the ground. She feels she can’t get up even though she’s told, her blindness is a condition that can go away in ninety-something days’ time. I think feeling these emotions are pretty reasonable for a teenager. It’s been like three weeks since the accident, and her newfound blind perspective of life. That can’t be easy. BUT her grandparents know this isn’t healthy, Tessa needs to write. “I haven’t written one verse, one line, one word of poetry. I have no desire to. I have no inspiration, no joy. It’s all gone.” - Tessa from ch.1 So what do Granny and Gramps do following their infinite wisdom? Play the girl. And I’m like, sure dude, harass the child into doing what you want. Sure, don’t try to get her professional help or a psychotherapeutist or something if you think she’s faring so terribly. Sure, run an ad for hiring some part timer to transcribe for the poet who doesn’t want to write anymore. Sure, do it all behind her back. I mean she has PTSD and is blind for now, but yeah, this will most definitely help. Good job! For goodness’ sake they treat the girl like she’s been locked inside her room for months?!

When they share this brilliant plan with Tessa, she freaks out so much the elderly retract the ad. But not before the son of the newspaper’s owner gets a scrap of this new, possible past time activity and decides to be a creep and essentially stalk Tessa. But that’s for later.

Tessa explicitly tells her grandparents she doesn’t want to meet new people, doesn’t want to write, what she needs is time. So the next thing Granny does is pushes an unknown, teenage boy into her blind granddaughter’s room for a chat. Against Tessa’s repeated objections! There’s so much nonsense going on in the sequence of the story. Like one day there comes a boy–a stranger, knocking on the door, saying he’s this and this’ son and wants to help. And because, at a glance, he has prosthetic legs, you invite him first into the house then into your blind teenage granddaughter’s room? Without actually knowing if he is who he says he is? Without knowing the first thing about him? But even if that part is true, and he is who he says–the son of the newspaper’s owner, let’s not forget the mildly stalkerish way the guy’s been acting.

Granny shares a shit load about Tessa’s problems, then flat out tells her to meet Weston. “I told you I don’t want help. And I certainly don’t want anyone touching my laptop. I don’t want to write. I don’t want some stranger coming into my house and feeling sorry for me!” That’s Tessa speaking with Granny prior to the meeting. I mean it’s no biggie if she’s against the whole idea because he could help, right? Is this the American way of handling things? Someone give me a spoon that I can boink myself in the head with to get around this type of mentality.

At the first meeting Tessa has meltdown, screams at Weston and cries. Tells him she doesn’t need help. Tells him not to bother. Tells him she wants him OUT OF HER ROOM. Weston leaves before telling her he’ll be back the next day. And Granny and everyone else is fine with that. So in the following days the nuisance has the audacity to come over, small-talk the grandparents into loving him because he’s so charming everyone is in love with him a little. (That’s another thing from the book, I shit you not, the dude straight up thinks things like this. Yes, I know it’s self-deceit.) Weston forcibly takes over Tessa’s room which is basically the last place she feels comfortable at? Never mind, now someone’s popping in randomly when they think it’s cool, telling her what to do––“I know you don’t need me. But you need to write.” Bitch I think you need to fuck off from people’s lives who don’t want you in it. Just an advice.

One time Tessa wakes up to Weston barging into her room (“...he walks into my room without knocking, at 9.00 a.m., when I’m still in my pajamas”). Granny’s off to do her things leaving the boy to stay and make himself at home. Huh, quite reasonable.

Weston forces Tessa to accept there’s no fleeing this situation––one, the three of them (him and the oldies) constructed for her. Because it’s helping.

That’s basically the question of: where’s the line between wanting to help someone and pushing them even deeper when they’re already at a bad place. But since this is a YA romance everything is nice and good and sorted at the end so Tessa can thank her loving family for forcing their volition on her.

- Here’s another lovely example of consent portrayed in the novel: “I told you I don’t want to go outside.” Weston laughs. “You also told me to get out of your house and never come back.” “And you directly disobeyed my wishes.” “And you’ve been enjoying it...” Please tell me I’m not the only one seeing what’s wrong with this whole dialogue. It’s so disappointing and frankly, discouraging, to see an attitude like this written by a woman, targeted at a young, female audience.

- Oh, there’s their first kiss as well. It’s really really romantic. Weston asks for permission then doesn’t wait for the answer! “I’m gonna kiss you. Is that okay?” It’s not fair, because I don’t give her any time to reply. Instead, I press my lips against hers. Without permission.” ...So why did he even bother to ask? To seem nice? Well, as the saying goes it’s the thought that counts… So is this how consent works? NO! But consent never stood a chance in this book at the first place.

Next up; Characters.

*not @me side-eyeing Abbie’s video about how to craft a strong female protagonist* - I’m not gonna say a lot about Tessa. For me she falls flat like a cut-out. She’s paper thin, and dumb, although she’s the novel’s protagonist. Funny though, I feel she has less to give to the story than Weston, and it’s not just the length of their respective chapters. There’s like 600-700 words from Tessa’s POV (mainly about Weston 80% of the times), then we get a 4k word count chapter from Weston (mainly about his own journey and overcoming his struggles). Tessa’s chapters are either shallow or about her time spent with Weston. Opposed to this Weston has a full arc of him getting over the loss of his legs and standing up from it (quite literally). See what I’m talking about? All I get from Tessa before the accident is that she’s a writer, homeschooled, likes her colour coordinated books, and waffles (like Abbie ha!) (*whispers* and she wears her hair in a messy bun, ofc she does). Oh and she can’t live without WiFi. All I get after the accident is that she’s hurting, angry and blind. And now she has Weston. So her backstory is…..?

- Weston. Oh man where to start. Now he has a backstory. From it we can conclude how idiotic he is. That’s not recklessness or being a teenage boy. I’m sorry but his behaviour is simply idiotic. Sometimes he’s really grown up (taking care of his baby brothers and all) other times he has like 1 (one) braincell operating in his head. Bearing weeks of pain, and not saying anything about it to anyone because that’s not superhero like? WHAT??? He experienced, at the least, three weeks of torturous pain and several days of fever and dizziness, popping Advil like it’s candy. Still, the only one who realised this is his best friend at school and his 10 year old brother who was at the scene of Weston injuring his legs in the first place. What about the parents one might ask. Well Idk. Obviously a 13 year old is so good at deception and sneaking around that adults can’t catch on! On this note I want to gift Parents of the Year Award to Mamma and Pappa Ludovico. With parental supervision like that I’m baffled the child lived up to the age 13.

Weston is the nightmare male lead people usually salivate after in k-dramas stuffed into the body of a 16 year old American boy. Now I’ve never understood those people and their preferences of the bratty, entitled, but oh-so-handsome males and I still don’t understand to this day. Where’s the appeal? Don’t ask me.

I’ll just put down some quotes: “It’s the first time in three years anyone has ever met me without that look of pity on their face. The first time anyone has ever looked at me and not seen me. The first time anyone has stood before me—with perfectly normal legs—and complained about their own problem. The feeling is exhilarating.” So basically this is the so called ‘No one has ever treated me like this. Except this girl, my God, she’s intriguing’. Weston enjoys Tessa’s rude behaviour. “So she’s stubborn. She’s rude. She’s a spitfire wallflower who lost her sight and now hates anyone who tries to help her. Game on.” ...Are you five? “Tessa is the only Dickinson who doesn’t like me.” I have no idea why that could be. But, listen, listen: “I turn around in the desk chair, throwing her a hard look over my shoulder. She’s still sitting rigid and stoic on her bed, staring at nothing. She’s actually really pretty. Her eyes are bluer than mine—the enhanced kind of blue you see in contact lens commercials. She has freckles, too. Just a few, thrown across her nose and cheeks. Her hair is braided today, less messy. She looks so serious. I liked it better when she was screaming and crying.” Idk somehow this sounds like every badly composed romance I’ve ever seen. Let’s just say the progression of the relationship between Weston and Tessa infuriated me 90% of the story. You can help others without being an ass. You can also help others without being a horrible love interest, but that’s for another day. YA contemporaries don’t work like that.

Oh Weston, what a knight in shining armour. Three years prior, he had this thing with Clara Hernandez–a girl from school. It wasn’t real dating but they spent some time together (he walked her to class ooooh~~~) so she became “at the time, my unofficial girlfriend”. Things change after Weston’s accident, of course. He tells her he doesn’t want to continue their ambiguous relationship. And that’s alright, it’s his choice, BUT he then kind of passes the girl to his best friend, so she won’t annoy him anymore? The way he narrates the whole thing is...ugh. “But she wasn’t even dumping me, and we weren’t even dating. We were thirteen years old, for crying out loud.” See, this is Weston thinking about what happened. And this is him telling Rudy about it: “What were you talking to Clara about?” he (Rudy) asked. “I dumped her.” Following in another chapter they talk about how now that the coast is clear––Weston and Clara are through, Rudy should hit on Clara: “He wanted to resist the whole thing and deny his obvious crush on Clara Hernandez. But he couldn’t do anything except laugh and shake his head. He knew I was the best friend he could ever ask for.” Such a kind and caring person for handing out the girl he doesn’t really want to his best friend. Give him a medal for that one. Idk this whole business irked me to no end, like Clara was his possession or something. (Yeah, and the poor girl eventually ended up with Rudy, not like she had any other choice…)

- Downplaying female friendship. Yeah, that one happens as well. When Tessa talks with her friends (her blogging circle) the only thing we as readers can glimpse about their conversation is “Tell us more about the boy,” like... really? Because once again that’s the only thing a group of friends can talk about when one of them suffers an accident resulting in trauma. And Tessa’s answer? “At first, I didn’t like him. I thought he didn’t understand anything about me—even though he acted like he did. And I’m not sure that he understands much, even now. But he’s kind. And patient. And he kept coming back to type poetry for me, so I’ve kind of been forced to make friends with him.” The reply of her friends… “Aw ... He sounds really cute.” Yeah, really cute, forcing you to be friends with him. “How can you not be in love with a boy who makes you waffles?” Well, friend no.5, it’s not that hard… But there’s more. After Tessa gets her sight back the only thing we get from this supporting bubble of warm friends is as follows: “LIV: TESSA HOW ARE YOU FEELING ME: a lot better actually ME: my headache FINALLY went away MARIA: yayy!! ALLISON: PRAISE THE LORD ME: yeah fr KATE: So glad to hear you’re doing better, Tessa! It must be quite a transition omg… GRACIE: I can’t even imagine ME: it’s been pretty crazy ME: but good ME: I guess ME: ugh idk mixed emotions LIV: ???? LIV: TELL US EVERYTHING LIV: if u want to lol ME: ahhh well ME: Weston is kind of not talking to me anymore,” That is it my friends. Two to three sentences about her condition and it’s time to talk about the boy. Is this really how shallow anyone would want to describe the protagonist and her close-knit group of friends talking for the first time after one of them lost their sight? Then again, talking for the first time after she got her sight back? I’m disappointed to say the least.

- I didn’t care for any other character enough to jot down my observations. They were bland, they were there to help the main couple, nothing more, nothing less. Weston’s kid brothers were cute and Rudy seemed like a normal, sane character (I applaud him for that). All I can say is the families in this novel are something else.

The romance.

Okay, let me state before anything else: I like romance if there’s balance. I like romance when the people involved are equals. I believe a relationship, and a good one at that, should have cornerstones. One of them has to be that equality. It also doesn’t hurt if none of the involved parties are assholes. The romance can be of any trope as long as the happy ending is tied to said relationship being healthy. And I don’t mean sorely the end product; the way that relationship is constructed step by step should resemble these things. If not, at least call them out for it. I’m not the advocate of perfect characters or relationships (any kind, not just romance) because that would be really unrealistic. It can be bad, yeah, it can be toxic, or a little messed up in the middle. But for crying out loud reflect that in the storytelling! Do it especially if the story is planned for a younger audience! Now let me make another statement: What I don’t like is that in mostly American YA het-romances there are rarely any of these things.

- This one here is probably supposed to be the writer’s well liked trope of hate-to-love romance, but I feel the concept of kindergarteners is more fitting. The boy forces, the girl yields. But it’s okay because he likes her and wants to help.

There are some cases of harassment sprinkled in, as in one party objecting the other’s closeness or presence and the latter not giving a damn about this. Real respectful; but, hey, that’s part of consent too so I guess it simply flew over our heads in this particular story. A fresh and original concept on romance, wholesome and healthy. And the thing is, Weston actually knows these things. He literally says so in the book, “...until I intruded on Tessa’s life, however it happened.”

And of course Tessa is more pure than fresh snow on white lillies; she’s basically a lotus. Weston is the first boy stepping into her room. Give me a second to freak out about that. It’s so exciting! (Mostly by knowing the circumstances in which he did that.)

The other thing that annoyed me was Weston’s entitlement and holier-than-thou attitude. He knows everything better than Tessa. He knows Tessa better than she herself does WHEN HE DOESN’T EVEN KNOW THE FIRST THING ABOUT HER. That’s the moral of the story. No, but I’m not kidding, some of his thoughts set me on fire. “She wrote about sunlight and oceans and falling in love, when I’m pretty sure she has no idea what it feels like to fall in love.” I’m sorry, but do you know Tessa? (besides stalking her via the grandparents)???? The audacity, I’m cackling.

- Can someone tell me why Tessa speaks with Weston if she doesn’t want to? I mean besides that this way the story can go on. She actually starts their conversation on the second day. Me, personally, don’t talk to people whose presence I can barely tolerate. How silly, I know.

- Weston annoys the shit put of Tessa for like five minutes but he talks to her, (for his own selfish reasons may I add––Weston, honey, if you want people not to pity you try helping blind little kids who actually want your help) and brings her flowers, and chocolate so I guess it’s reasonable that approximately four days later Tessa’s attitude shifts to comparing him to sunlight. “Weston is everything And all at once. Weston is gentle And harsh. Weston can be blindingly bright But then he can also be Delicately soft. Weston is a paradox.” – Oof girl.

- Let me tell you kids just because someone annoys or teases you and you tolerate it––that’s not the get-go to life changing love. Even though he’s the first real life boy whom you’ve ever spent casual time with. But he’s the first boy who ever showed you real attention, you say. Well then, that’s a grace girls have to accept. Or so this book and so many others try to make us believe. The sad thing is, there actually could’ve been a conflict––if one wants to write about opposites attracting each other so much––without making the story so cliched and weak.

Plot-holes.

- Maybe it’s nitpicking for some, BUT… why was Weston in his dad’s office in the first place? I never got around to the reason of that. He loiters around there once a week, that’s what the book states. Well, okay, he is there inspecting the motivational quotes collection on the wall while his father just works away. And am I supposed to believe the man is all cool with this? What is Weston doing there? For what reason? The answer is easy: he simply had to hear the phone call of Tessa’s grandfather retracting the ad.

- Now why does his father–the owner of the newspaper–accept calls regarding ads in the first place? Is this really how things work? Other employees do nothing? I’ve worked at a small printing company in the past. The management only accepted calls regarding ads if there wasn’t a single soul anywhere near the perimeter of the office. There’s a department for jobs like this. Bosses don’t qualify.

- About the already mentioned beautiful first meeting, where sparks fly, and the lovely couple can roll off a great start... If Tessa didn’t want to meet anyone why didn’t she lock her door? That’s a pretty easy task. At first I thought maybe there’s no lock on the door. But wait; after the disastrous meeting she locks herself away. “The door is locked, and Grandma has stopped trying to open it.” Sooo there was a lock after all…...okay…….

- Why is almost everyone in this book freckled with blonde hair and blue eyes? Okay, this really is just nitpicking, but like, is there some symbolism in that? *bounces eyebrows* Ehem, if you know what I mean.

- I’m not sure if this is an actual plot-hole but I was really surprised by the lack of anxiety Weston’s approach triggered in Tessa. Essentially, Weston is a stranger at the start of the book, with whom she gets locked into a room, without anyone else in there, when she’s still adjusting to the fact she can’t see. I especially looked out for it; Weston closes her door every time he’s over at their house to speak with her. I mean the first time she’s angry; but what about later? She doesn’t even seem nervous or affected by this at a time when her blindness is still fresh. Yet, when they go to Barnes & Noble, a public space with people around, Tessa is anxious the minute Weston leaves for a bathroom break. Like okay, some strange dude tries to pick her up and she’s rightfully terrified, but all she has to do is call out. Now both of these scenes are pressuring and scary, but where’s the difference? Tessa is nervous when the stranger approaches her in the book store, a big and open space with people around even before said stranger tries to initiate skinship. She tells him to leave her alone. But she did just that when Weston first went to see her. And Weston didn’t give a shit about it, much like the high schooler at the book store. And I’m supposed to believe with Weston she wasn’t apprehensive at all? Of course she wasn’t… he’s the love interest.

The whole book store scene makes me so uncomfortable and NOT because of what you’d think. It’s simply distasteful to create a scenario like that only to draw it back to… yes, you guessed it, Weston. He’s the saviour sweeping Tessa off her feet with “Get your hands off my girl” and chasing away that jerk. Why is it that still, in the year of *looks at smudged handwriting on hand* sometime past the 1890s there’s the need to use The Jerk™ hitting on the girl and The Nice Guy™ saving her by making her seem like his property? Oh did I forgot to mention the jerk smelled like cigarettes, and his pants were falling off his ass. I’m surprised he wasn’t wearing a leather jacket or had piercings just to fit the look to a T. That usage of my girl ...ugrghgh I can already feel white hairs sprouting from this. Look, I’m not against the idea of belonging to your beloved. If you want to say it, cool, do it. But when it’s not consensual, and you’re not a couple who already expressed to one another the wish to be viewed that way maybe DON’T FUCKING USE IT. Not to one up another guy trying scare the baddie away. Man, don’t do that. *channelling my inner LE to rap the last line really loud* What’s even better than this? Tessa’s reaction: “Despite the gravity of the situation, I can’t help but smile and get butterflies all over again.” REALLY???? Please donate braincells to this girl. She really needs it.

The dynamic of relationships.

- This is mind bogging for me. Almost all relations (excluding the most fundamental ones) serve a sole reason: cheer on and make the main couple happen. This book is promoted as a love story, one, not limited to romance. It’s a love story of family bonds, love between brothers, and grandparents, and friends. And that’s true for Weston… but for Tessa??? I don’t think so. But maybe that stems from how underdeveloped Tessa’s character is.

- The main couple’s dynamic is so stilted. Weston basically caused the state he is in, Tessa suffered an accident caused by outer circumstances. She’s the victim of a drunk driver, while quite frankly, Weston’s the victim of his own stupidity. And yet, since Weston decided to fight for himself he expects Tessa to do the same. Now that’s a nice thought, even if it’s about someone you barely know and met maybe two times in your life. Is that a reason to harass the other and tell them what to do, not taking no for an answer? I highly doubt it. Weston wanted to get better so he pressed himself, but he made that choice himself. It’s beautifully written down not once, not twice, but multiple times; how hard it was for him to choose between 1, the easy way––the flat grounded desert and 2, the hard scaling and rocky mountain range. He chose the mountain range and that’s admirable. What’s not admirable is, that from what I get from this book, Tessa never had the luxury of a choice. Because other’s never gave her time or let her decide for herself. Tessa says Weston is stubborn and obnoxiously optimistic. I think he’s just obnoxious, period.

- At the end of the book Tessa narrates how ashamed she feels and how her heart is breaking “Because of what Life has done to Weston.” For one, is Life responsible for what happened to Weston? I’d liked to read about how Weston tells the story of losing his legs to Tessa with a straight face, because all thorough the book he never once did that. To anyone. If that happened, he ought to admit how incredibly stupid he had been. As well as the consequences of his own decisions, every time he went on without saying a word or asking for help. That stubbornness is his character trait. Yes, it is, but we never get to see how that affected his family, there wasn’t one paragraph about his parents talking about it with him.

- On this note why is Tessa always so ashamed, feeling like she’s the brute, saying sorry to everyone at every chance? It’s not like others apologised to her once. This character trait only perpetuates the notion how everything others impose on her is fair trade because they only want to help. And either way, she only feels apologetic about standing up for herself.

Mentions of notable things that annoyed me.

- The judgement if a girl need makeup or not, because *banging pots and pans* she’s beautiful no matter what in the boy’s eyes. And he tells her just that. “Are you wearing makeup?” I ask, without thinking. Tessa smiles just a little. “Yeah,” she says. “Grandma helped me with it. This feels like… a special occasion.” “You don’t need it, you know. You look beautiful without it. But you look beautiful with it, too. You always look beautiful. Even when you’re crying.” Tessa really needed to know your opinion about her wearing makeup Weston. Kudos for you for telling her she doesn’t need it because she looks beautiful without it, but it’s okay to wear it as she looks beautiful with it too. Great input man!

- At this point I’m not even surprised, but there really was the girl staring at something, asking if it’s pretty. (Okay, Tessa couldn’t stare but she was probably imagining––here it’s the sundown, bc of the whole sunlight theme). Then the boy answering, “Yeah, it’s pretty.” Not as pretty as you, he thinks while staring straight at her. Hello, is this a Disney production?

Conclusion.

All in all is this the worst book ever? No. Are there unforgivable problems with it? Not explicitly.

My biggest problem is what message it sends about relationship patterns, patterns I hate with a fiery passion. It’s the same old shit I grew up with, and it’s the same old shit that doesn’t seem to change after twenty years. Not even now when,––with the help of the era of internet––everyone is suddenly so woke. But are they, really? All I saw about this novel is the raving reviews praising it to heavens. And there are themes in it that deserve praise––the acceptance of one’s self, the loss, the forgiveness, the overcoming of hardships of life––but what about all that’s left? What about the execution?

Bottom line is, because this is a book, everything gets resolved and all is happy and fine at the end. However in real life, coercing others to do things against their will isn’t a glorious idea. Disregarding consent isn’t acceptable. Helping with the stubbornness of a mule isn’t really helping. And last but not least, perpetuating a mindset and a budding relationship like the one presented in this book––for a young audience shouldn’t be okay.

[kingspoetrysoc]

Interview with Konstantinos Pappis

Konstantinos Pappis is a poet and King’s alumnus who studied Strategic Entrepreneurship and Innovation for his Master’s. He shares his blackout poems on Tumblr @blackout-diary​ and on Instagram @blackout_diary, and is the Music Editor at Our Culture. The King’s Poet’s Karen Ng talks to Konstantinos about his poetic experiences, process, and inspirations.

What is your earliest memory of poetry?

Like many people, my earliest memories of poetry are associated with school, where I felt pretty alienated by the way we approached poetry. It felt cold and analytical and I struggled to connect with it on a personal level – or perhaps there was less of a need to at that age. Although there were some Greek poets we studied in school whose work I remember liking, including C.P. Cavafy, Kostas Karyotakis, and Odysseas Elitis, it wasn't until later during my adolescence when I started discovering poetry outside of an academic context that I was able to appreciate it more. Things really started to change when I was introduced to English and American poets; for some reason, something about it not being in my native language made it easier to engage with and relate to. And then eventually I was able to approach different kinds of poetry from both an intellectual and an emotional standpoint.

How did you first realise you wanted to write poetry? What do you enjoy the most about writing?

In a word, Tumblr (RIP). But honestly, finding a community of people who used poetry as a form of expression more than anything else inspired me to do the same. I realised it wasn’t this inaccessible, overly sophisticated thing that you had to be especially clever or well-read to really get. Again, if you weren’t doing it to get a good grade, it was considered a bit weird to engage with poetry in any way, so seeing it outside of that context was pretty eye-opening.

It was also something that came with realising I had a passion for the arts in general. Music had always been my primary outlet, but poetry took over when I felt I needed the words to have more space on their own – to jump out on the page and release all the teenage angst I was going through, because listening to Creep every day somehow wasn’t enough. None of that poetry was any good, of course, but it was vital. And when I felt like this really personal thing was something I could share and exchange with friends, writing also became an important part of embracing vulnerability and forming close connections, too. I came to enjoy it more as a medium than an art form, in a way – at first, at least. 

In terms of what I enjoy about it now… Well, it’s hard to articulate, but if we’re talking about writing poetry specifically, I guess the appeal hasn’t changed all that much. It’s been a while since I’ve felt inspired to write a poem, but in the past it’s always been when I felt like I need to channel something that I couldn’t through any other form. Some might view the poetic form as being kind of limiting, but I feel like it’s quite the opposite – it’s almost freeing in the endless possibilities that it presents.

Above: a blackout poem by Konstantinos. The source text is “Moon” by @makingthingswrite on Instagram.

You’ve written a lot of amazing blackout poems! What about this form  appeals the most to you?

Blackout poetry appeals to me for almost entirely different reasons. I treat it more like a mental exercise that can be both calming and stimulating; something that operates on a more subconscious level. I like that I don’t have to be particularly inspired to do it, not even by the text that I’m using. I like that it doesn’t necessarily have to make sense, that I don’t have to stress over the final result too much. I like that it can then inspire me to make something else. I like the visual aspect of it, the act of repurposing something and giving it new meaning not just by altering the text but also its surroundings. Of course, people can make blackout poetry in a much more intentional way, but what sets it apart for me is that it’s a creative outlet that can be simple and almost passive yet gratifying at the same time.

How do you select a text for your blackout poems – where do you look? What do you look for?

It really varies: sometimes I’ll take photos from a book – I used to do blackout on old books nobody would ever open, but I switched to doing everything digitally –  and sometimes I’ll search for poems or articles randomly online. Reviews often work quite well. There does have to be something about the text that sticks out to me for me to use it as a source, but I tend not to overthink it.

I love that – inspiration is everywhere in our daily lives, even when we aren’t looking for it! Can you tell us a little about your writing process? Is it more emotion-led or methodical?

For blackout it’s entirely intuitive. For poetry in general I would say it’s almost always emotion-led, but the editing part can be more methodical. Normally, a lot of it happens late at night when I can’t sleep, and if I can’t sleep long enough for me to write things down and it doesn’t strike me as absolutely terrible in the morning, then it might turn into a poem.

Above: a blackout poem by Konstantinos. The source text is Sam Sodomsky’s review of duendita’s song “Open Eyes”. Your poem pebble (an ode) was one of the first poems to be published in our magazine. It isn’t a blackout poem, but could you tell us a little about it too – do you remember what it was like writing it?

See above re: late-night thoughts and the utter absurdity of the human condition! 

How has your experience of sharing your poetry to Instagram been? Are there any tips you could share with our readers? 

I haven’t done it in a year, partly due to a lack of inspiration and partly because I’ve tried to distance myself from Instagram and other social media platforms as much as I can – though maybe I’ll go back to Tumblr? But my experiences with the Instagram writing community have been nothing but great – I participated in Escapril back in April of last year, a yearly event founded by Savannah Brown, that encourages users to write and share a poem a day based on a prompt. It was a really great and fun challenge that helped me write and read more and connect with other poets. I would say participating in these kinds of communities is probably the best way to utilise the platform.

Thank you for that advice! On a similar note, which poets and poems inspire you the most? These could include childhood inspirations… Have your influences changed over the years? 

I would not be the person I am nor would I have any interest in poetry if it weren’t for Sylvia Plath. I can’t even pinpoint exactly when I first encountered her work, but I identified with it to an almost unhealthy degree as a teenager, as I’m sure many people have. I still get that feeling whenever I revisit her poetry or read more about her life and art. Also, a lot of spoken word videos from people like Sarah Kay really resonated with me at a young age. 

More recently, the closest I’ve gotten to that feeling of being deeply excited and inspired by poetry was when I discovered Savannah Brown’s work a couple of years ago. Her spoken word videos and poetry films really moved me, and her second poetry collection – which came out last year – is absolutely incredible (I wrote about it here). Lately I’ve also been listening to a lot of musicians whose work intersects with poetry, including Cassandra Jenkins and Anika Pyle, whose most recent albums reckon with grief and loss in a really powerful way.

Above: a blackout poem by Konstantinos. The source text is Christopher Gilbert’s poem “Fire Gotten Brighter”. Are there any styles besides blackout which you particularly love, or themes? Are there any topics you gravitate towards? 

I’ve always gravitated towards confessional poetry, both in terms of what I tend to write and what I like to read. Something most of the writers I’ve mentioned have in common is that they use intimate language to evoke a deep yearning for connection, in the face of existential dread and the unfathomable vastness of the cosmos. That usually does the trick!

Have any experiences at King’s Poetry Society or King’s in general – events, classes, readings, people you’ve met, or London itself – been particularly memorable, or inspired you? Can you tell us a little about them?

Absolutely. Just being in London, not even necessarily the experiences I had there, made me want to write more poetry than I had in a long time. There’s a Savannah Brown video essay on YouTube where she talks about passing a billion people on the street – obviously in the before times – and being like, “Who are all of you people? Could I care for you? How many of you idiots could I love?” That’s basically the gist of what had been stirring in me for a long time and that I still think about to this day. And then being a part of King’s Poetry Society was an opportunity for me to try and channel that, and engage in an actual physical writing community in a way I never had before. I literally read a poem inspired by that video during one of our poetry reading events – that will certainly stay with me.

Above: Konstantinos’ poem “doors on the underground”. He read this poem at one of the 2019-20 King’s Poetry Society critique sessions.

How important do you think writing communities are, in fostering “better” writing? In your experience, is writing helped by discussion? 

I think they’re incredibly important, not just in fostering “better” writing but also fostering a space for vulnerability. Poetry can be an intensely private form of writing, but so much can be gained from discussing it, especially if one is looking to not only hone their craft but also learn from and connect with others. Us writers can be especially introverted people (hi!), and may be discouraged by the long stretches of silence that can pervade a poetry meeting, but there’s power in hearing the words you or someone else has written out loud. Even a single comment can completely change a way you think about a poem.

What do you think the value of reading poetry is? Can a poem profoundly change someone’s life? Conversely, can someone read a poem and be unaffected – and if this happens, has a poet “failed”? 

I think Marianne Moore sums it up pretty well in her poem Poetry, where she talks about finding in it “a place for the genuine.” As for the second question, poetry can definitely change someone’s life – not to be corny or anything, but like all art, it can also save someone’s life.

That said, I don’t think a poet has failed if the reader feels emotionally unaffected by their work. Sometimes, a writer may wish to portray an event or theme in a cold and unaffecting manner to get a certain point across. There’s value in that type of poetry, too, and art’s inherent subjectivity means that someone might be moved by a poem that someone else feels indifferent towards. There’s also value in poetry that is private and not meant to be shared, because even if only one person derives something from it, then it is valuable. I do think, however, that the further one strays from that ideal of earnestness, the closer the work hinges on being trivial or pretentious. We’ve moved past the need to be overly cynical or ironic.

I agree, poetry that is never shared is not lesser by any means – I find great personal value in treating a poem like a diary of sorts. Maybe each stanza mimics a different entry... With all that you feel manifesting into this thing that is at once completely attached to your experience but also – if shared – something that becomes detached and open to reinterpretation... That is really powerful. How do you think people who have never written before could be encouraged to start writing for themselves, whether for fun or as catharsis – without the pressures of becoming someone recognised or followed?

I really like that approach! I think the diaristic style of writing is often looked down upon as less legitimate, even though it isn’t. To answer your question, I think normalising the act of writing poetry purely for enjoyment or as a form of catharsis is really important, especially from a young age. Part of that could be achieved by exposing young people to more than what one might call the poetic canon. Being disappointed that a student isn’t engaging with poetry when they’ve only been introduced to Shakespeare is like assuming someone isn’t musically inclined when they’ve only been exposed to a single genre of music. Another way would be to incorporate more writing activities that utilise the poetic form, and allow the freedom to explore it outside the confines of academic study. I’m not saying all teachers should follow the example of Dead Poets Society, but there are so many ways to foster creativity and make poetry more approachable.

Do you think poetry is sometimes perceived as an inaccessible art? 

100%. I think that’s the biggest problem with how poetry is perceived. A lot of it comes down to the way poetry has been taught and disseminated for centuries – through a lens that is inherently exclusionary, upheld by systems that are classist, racist, sexist, etc. Hopefully that is starting to change – studies have shown that more and more young people read and write poetry, largely thanks to the rise of social media poetry. Poetry can represent such a wide range of experiences, but for people to view it as an accessible art form, more barriers need to be broken. Amanda Gorman becoming the youngest inaugural poet in American history, and the first Black poet ever to perform at the Super Bowl this year alone is certainly a huge sign of progress. 

Do you have a favourite literary journal, or a poetry platform you would like to recommend? What have you been reading lately? 

Subscribing to the Poetry Foundation and the Academy of American Poets’ poem-a-day newsletters has been a great way of keeping poetry in my everyday life. Recently, I’ve also been loving a podcast called Poetry Unbound, where each 10-15 minute episode immerses you into a single poem. On YouTube, I love Ours Poetica, a video series curated by poet Paige Lewis in collaboration with the Poetry Foundation that features readings of poems by writers, artists, and actors – including John Green reading Moore’s Poetry and Savannah Brown reading her poem the universe may stop expanding in five billion years. It offers a truly intimate and approachable way of experiencing poetry.

Above: Konstantinos’ poem “lonely little london”.

Is it important to you to read a wide variety of poetry, from different communities and on different subjects? Do you think it’s important for poets to write about things beyond their immediate world? 

That’s probably the biggest shift that has happened since I first got into poetry – realising how important it is to read widely. I was mostly drawn to poetry that reflected my own limited experience, but now more than ever I find it vital to immerse myself in different points of view, especially from underrepresented or marginalised groups. I now see poetry less as a means of personal expression than a form of empathy, and because of that I’m able to gain so much more from it. That said, I don’t think it’s necessary for poets to write about things that aren’t part of their immediate world. It depends on one’s goals and ambitions, but there’s already so much that’s unique about a person’s immediate world – things that are reflected in society at large – that being forced to write outside of it can often lead to work that feels hollow and insincere, or even insensitive. That doesn’t mean it has to be limiting – the beauty of poetry is that you can write about your immediate world but not necessarily through it.

Lastly… Do you think a poet is born a poet, or made into one? Which is more important: natural talent, or practice and growth? Can anyone become a poet? If everyone has it in them, do you think anyone who puts their mind to it can produce meaningful work – since, of course, all work is meaningful in one way or another, whether privately or publicly?

This is a slightly tricky question to answer, because either way it could imply that only some are afforded the privilege of becoming poets. If a small percentage of people are born poets, then of course that means everyone else is inherently excluded; if one is made into a poet, then only those who are able to cultivate any artistic inclinations will have the opportunity of fulfilling their potential. Most people will say the truth, as always, is somewhere in the middle, that it’s some complicated combination of the two. But I feel it’s much simpler than that – when you boil it down, really, everyone is born a poet.

[freevoidman]

Okay I’m reading through Porg’s update so some of y’all can save your braincells and here are some great highlights (under a readmore bc i couldn’t help but tear into a few things she suggested):

Flat out ignoring that Vergil had changed by the end of the game as a result of V and Urizen’s separate experiences.

In trying to make V and Urizen their own character, she throws out the idea of Vergil being manipulated by the Qliphoth/Urizen (??? somehow??? even though the tree is implied to be non-sentient i believe???), with V being a Devil hunter looking through the remains of Mallet Island (which was completely blown up, turned to rubble, and then swallowed by the sea, so... that can’t happen), finding the cane which makes him youthful and not sick but... having the cane makes it so he can only kill demons through the cane??? for some reason??? And he needs the Qliphoth fruit to heal himself and free him from the curse???

How did she make V’s backstory even more confusing and complicated how the fuck did she do that

Almost immediately after bringing up the cane, she instead changes it to be one of the rings he’s wearing because she wants her “precious V” to use weapons other than the cane, which makes all the prior paragraphs about the cane’s curse and only using it pointless. She’s the one writing this fic, why can’t she edit her own work so it’s more cohesive?

Despite saying that V should be a Devil Hunter, she doesn’t explain why someone who is supposed to be killing demons would form a pact with at least three to fight demons. Her rewrite dismisses Visions of V, and she even states later that the manga is a waste of time as it won’t ever be translated into English (which 1) is not a limiting factor to reading it as many people have translated it already and 2) doesn’t dismiss it’s value at building up V’s character, who she supposedly likes the best).

Also, for someone who complains about DMC5 being a rehash of DMC3, she’s sure doing her best to change it to a rehash of DMC1 (Vergil being controlled by an outside force, bringing back Mallet Island, bringing back Mundus [the cane is supposed to be tied to Mundus]).

V apparently can’t be human because she wants to give him a devil trigger, despite having 3 familiars and his own strength. Okay I guess?

Also it’s really fucking sick how she describes V changing, because it’s apparently V fusing with Nightmare? Devil May Cry has never been one for body horror but she straight up says she was inspired by “The Thing (1982), The Fly (1986), Bloodborne, and Resident Evil 7″ for the transformation imagery and I wanted to nope the fuck out of there real quick.

Her segments of actual fiction writing and dialogue are really bad it’s almost like a parody Youtube skit.

She switches between prose and script writing randomly, it’s really odd. She does it primarily with Dante i’ve noticed? Here’s an example I wrote of what she does:

“Hey, don’t stress out about it will you?” Says John following a few steps behind VINCENT: Don’t get your panties in a twist

And that just happens... randomly? Like, there’s no indication why she’s doing that it just happens.

She straight up writes notes in her fic about the controls for character actions in-game what the hell--

She also shamelessly puts in a link to artwork that clearly isn’t her’s (and I highly doubt she got permission to post about) to try and show what V’s Devil Trigger would look like. I couldn’t find it because I don’t know how pixiv works, but that’s just a shitty move, especially with how she treats artists on tumblr when they draw art of Vergil.

EDIT: Porg has now straight up copy-pasted the art into her fic without the artist’s permission which is, we all know, fucking theft. While it is good artistry, is just a weird mashup of Vergil’s and Dante’s. It’s not all that unique and I don’t understand why she had to reference a bunch of body horror shit when all the Devil Triggers in game are essentially just a large flash of light and a seamless transition between forms??? It’s good art, I’m not trying to bash the artist, but... Porg, you could’ve been a little more original here rather than just ripping off another artist’s designs...

Everyone in her fic acts super casually to seeing Vergil alive in the Qliphoth and it’s like... honey, no.

Vergil acts WILDLY out of character holy fuck. Like, I know I should have expected that but this is NOT how Vergil would act in the slightest. She’s pretty much writing an OC.

Building off of this: EVERYONE acts OOC and... it’s not exactly cringey, but it is perfect proof that Porg doesn’t know what she’s doing and hasn’t properly analyzed the characters.

Dante acts weirdly... detached? There’s no sign of him acting like his normal goofball-y self, and he’s much more serious than normal. He actually acts more like cannon Vergil than himself, actually. (He also knows CPR apparently? Which... is a skill he would really never bother learning, so...)

Nero doesn’t act nearly as emotional, and acts calmly for some reason. You can’t feel any of his emotions behind his dialogue, only through the adverbs added to the tags)

V is too informative. He knows way too much about random shit that... no one should rightfully know. I’ll mention it more later, but... V doesn’t act like himself and I don’t really know how to explain it.

Vergil is essentially her OC. Seriously--he’s not as brooding or snarky, he’s far too open and apologetic, there’s practically no sense of rivalry between him and Dante. Weirdly, he acts more like canon V than fic!V does, despite the fact that Porg wants to establish V and Vergil and separate characters. His actions also make no sense when put alongside his canon personality. We aren’t reading anything about Vergil, we’re reading about Porg’s weirdly idealized version of him.

I’m going to make a break in the post here because I feel like this is the part that needs the most attention:

Porg goes OUT OF HER WAY to dedicate a GIANT portion of this chapter to her own OC: Nero’s mom. There are several long paragraphs of establishing the relationship between her OC and Vergil, talking about leaving Fortuna, how they were ‘happy’ and then saying that after a hurricane (inspired by hurricane hugo, you’ll see later) she got separated from Vergil, never reconnected with him, GAVE BIRTH, died from a demon attack with Nero staying near her corpse, and then Nero was found by humans and taken off the mainland to be taken to an orphanage on Fortuna. She wanted a massive amount of time to be taken out of the fun parts of playing Devil May Cry to establish a relationship that would never come back and essentially turn into a 15 minute soap opera inserted into a game about having fun killing demons.

Alright back to the noted highlights.

Porg confirms in her fic that the universe of Devil May Cry happens in the US, and that Fortuna is an island along the southeast coast and I want to fucking rip my eyeballs out at this point.

The ONLY REASON why she is doing this is because she lives in Florida. I know she does, and she just wants to imply that this is all happening near her home turf. How anyone who lives in Florida thinks an island like Fortuna can exist is beyond me though, because playing through 4, most of the buildings are inspired by Italian designs, and no one in the states would build an entire island with italian designs. I’ve been to Florida multiple times--there’s no buildings there even REMOTELY designed to match Fortuna.

EDIT: I have been informed that Porg actually lives in Pennsylvania, not Florida, which makes both more and less sense. Why Florida? Why not a hidden island up on the east coast? Why does this have to be taking place in the states at all Porg???

Yeah, let’s take Nero off the MAINLAND OF FLORIDA after a DEVASTATING HURRICANE and send him to an orphanage on an ISLAND which would’ve been hit the hardest by ANY hurricane. TOTAL SENSE. 

She tries to make her own timeline for the series using actual real world dates and events and it’s terrible (she references Hurricane Hugo in 1989, and confidently states that 3 took place in 1990, despite all evidence for the actual dates of events being fan theory established through circumstantial evidence).

There’s so much horror movie inspiration here--not cheap horror, but really twisted shit that... doesn’t fit with Devil May Cry’s tone at all? In the slightest? She references Jacob’s Ladder, plus all the other body horror media I wrote above.

Straight up just tears Vergil’s arm off which sure, I guess we gotta make THAT a parallel between Nero and Vergil. They can have a father son moment over being physically maimed.

In the scene immediately before this, Urizen picks up Vergil by the head and roots around Vergil’s memories (somehow???) to show him all the ‘bad moments’ in his life to traumatize him. She describes it as the audience getting flashes of him falling to hell, charging Mundus, being Nelo Angelo, etc. 

This causes Vergil to cry and beg for Urizen to stop. Then Urizen rips off his arm. So. Yeah. Another point for the OOC!Vergil/OC-taking-Vergil’s-place board.

Also this point ALONE made me realize that Porg does not know how much time, effort, and money needs to be put into making assets. Like, the entire fic she was stressing that everything be done in 5′s HD Graphics--including the ruins of Mallet Island, so I have to assume she’d want these little snippets in HD too, which would be a massive money hole creating these assets for one scene that lasts maybe ten seconds total.

I know I stated it in one of my earlier posts, but most of what she’s writing would fit better with a sequel for the reboot series, not DMC5. It would make her OOC writing of Vergil make sense, all the horror movie inspiration and body horror shit would fit better there, especially all the crappy dialogue too.

She somehow made Griffon even MORE annoying than in cannon.

BTW if I had to listen to poetry while fighting the final boss of a video game, I’d sooner turn my PS4 off. Not that poetry isn’t cool and all, but it cheapens the final fight and distracts you. It wouldn’t work.

EDIT: I realized this point made no sense without context, sorry. Porg made the Book of Urizen (the poetry book by William Blake referenced multiple times by V) either weirdly prophetic or made it out like Blake had inner knowledge of demon powers or... something along those lines, and V magically has the knowledge that reciting poetry from the book about Urizen will... harm him? Weaken him? Open a gate to hell (she mentions a portal appearing near him)? It’s very unclear, but she essentially rewrites Urizen as the final boss, and makes it three stages (V [Griffon recites some verses, which is what the first point was about], Vergil and Dante [this is where Vergil gets his arm ripped off btw], and then Nero) with all three of them reading poetry from the book to deal the “final blow” to Urizen. I’d much rather have Vergil be the final boss than have to go through a three-stage boss fight while every character I play as recites poetry to kill the boss.

She mentions Dante using Sin DT against Urizen but I’m pretty sure with her fuckery of the game’s events Dante can’t GET Sin DT? Because there’s no fight between Nero and Urizen where he’d intervene?

COMPLETELY IGNORES VERGIL’S DEVELOPMENT OF WANTING TO TRAVEL WITH HIS BROTHER THROUGH HELL TO ELIMINATE THE QLIPHOTH FUCK OFF.

Also she changed the lore of the Qliphoth so that it sprouts semi-naturally around every 500 or so years? So... shouldn’t leaving the Qliphoth roots be fine now? Since it’s natural?

Nico acts like growing back arms is totally normal

Wrote an INCREDIBLY shoe-horned in moment in the van with Dante filling Trish and Lady in about finding Vergil and everything that happened where, once again, Trish and Lady act almost completely nonplussed that Vergil is alive after 20+ years in hell, with about 9 of those ten years being trapped under Mundus’ control and corrupted by the Demon King

Seriously why is no one surprised in this fic that Vergil survived? Dante has a brief moment before finding him, but everyone finds out and accepts it like flipping a switch (once again--ESPECIALLY DANTE, which is NOT how the grieving process works)

Porg states that the ending is trash because the twins are fighting in hell, but completely ignores that most of Dante and Vergil’s lives have been built on conflict and they like fighting demons, especially Dante. Both of them were happy and doing what they love.

She also completely ignores through this entire thing that Dante was really fucking depressed in the novels leading up to 5 but hey I don’t even know if she can read.

I can vaguely agree that Trish and Lady were sidelined and they should’ve had a bigger role. However, I can’t fault the directors for not doing this, because they were already developing three playable characters with their own unique fighting styles. She writes all this shit about the story, writes notes about controls and mission layouts, but forgets that it takes a lot more than pressing a single button to code a game.

She just doesn’t know what she’s talking about. Seriously, none of these things are cohesive or edited properly, and despite her saying she wanted better for Vergil, or Nero, or Dante, or V, she writes all of them incredibly out of character and doing illogical actions. I just... I don’t get it.

The best part is--I can’t even tell her about these things, or give constructive criticism. She moderates the comments on her fic and isn’t afraid to delete anything she doesn’t agree with or can’t make a ‘passionate rant’ about.

[kholoudnine]

THE ANSWERS TO YOUR QUESTIONS

Hey guys!

So I have just come out of last weekend's book fest, am writing this at like 4am waiting for my sleep aids to finally kick in because I really should be going to bed now, and I thought It'd be a good time to start a blog post.

This past week has been crazy and just picking up more and more as it goes on. I've been ordering books, selling to stores(more to come on that little detail soon), signing up for signings in other states, booking meetings, and getting together more places to perform my art live. It's a work out for sure but the more I do the clouser I feel like I am to where I wanna be in life, so it's all worth a little lack of sleep. Although I have been making a commitment to sticking to a decent regemin for taking care of myself. If you read my poetry, you know I struggle with this daily, but if I wanna be at my best on stage and at signings and in my work, than it's an important step. It's also something I wanna encourage. For people not to just accept the narrative of being unhealthy and tired, if you're unhealthy and tired, strive to change that. I have so many ideas for blog posts and videos about how I've been going about doing that which I hope you'll enjoy and take something from. This post though, I wanted to talk about something that I've been asked for a lot lately, advice.

Now I knew when I started this that there would be people who looked up to me and people who want to know I did it and want to know what they can do for their dream and just wanna know more about my journey, the thing about that was just I thought all that as a little kid and I thought it'd be something that came from record deals and being rich and screaming stadiums, never did I think my self-published books and my open mic performances would draw so many people asking me for guidance through their own journey or draw so much curiosity for how I got where I am today (which for a time I thought wasn't very far). I've even been mistaken as a professional in the craft, someone with years of signings and publishing under their belt. This got me thinking, what exactly makes a professional, and what do I have to offer?

So for the people who ask me about my experience, I've pretty much been at this my whole life. It's been a constant uphill battle for me with anxiety and doubt and obstacles of all sort pushing back, but since I was a little child dressed as Hannah Montana and using letter stencils to write songs I was sure this is when I wanted. Something I need. That meant going to every free class I could find. The library funded a lot of my passion and education, with improv and acting classes, guitar lessons, computer courses, open mics, and workshops. I lived in libraries. I would read books about design and flip through adventures, I'd sit in the stacks learning about podcasts, I took photography and leadership in freshman and sophomore year of high school (for the gods' awful times I was in online school *shudders*). I still go to those classes now, the maker's space is going to help me tremendously in the next coming year. I'm so excited about it all still. For a long time with all those classes, I was still the quiet one. Even with all these teachers believing in me, I couldn't beileve in my own voice. I didn't think I could speak, and around my peers I was still weird, so I was quiet. Until JYPS workshop, that is when I was put on a stage for the first time in my teenage career. Working with the group definitely drove me to who I am now, instead of just being taught poetry, I was taught business, I was taught to stand on corners and give out flyers, to promote myself, to be confident and build connections, and I still go now. I'll be there this weekend, learning just like everyone else will be. This is where I found my voice. So as you can see, I've got experience, but I'm still trying to learn more. I don't really think I'll ever not be a student.

Knowing that, I will now give my best advice. I'm going to break it down into FAQ's because I do get a lot of questions, and most are more or less the same things.

1. How Do yoU Find Events?

I find all of my events through my mum and word of mouth. My mother started releasing books about a year before I did and she finds a lot of the events this year since most are ones she researched years prior. Other events I find through the library system and old fashioned word of mouth, it is not uncommon for people to come to my performances or see me at a signing and invite me to another somewhere else. Networking is key. Always remember to talk to people at these things as you'll never know who you'll meet. Do not be afraid to ASK "Hey can I preform here? Hey what signings are there in town? Hey Siri search local book signings?" You'll find something surely.

2. How Do You Find Inspiration?

Everywhere. My life, other books and art, music, dancing, etc. I've been dancing and gotten entire scenes in my head randomly or laying back and listening to music then I'll start replaying the song as a whole outline shows itself to me. It's really a magickal thing, being an artist. It does take practice for some to get to that level of spacey but you can always start by writing about what you know. Many scenes or emotions or characters in my books can be connected to my life in some way or another, maybe an altered moment, maybe a name I heard, maybe a character that reminds me heavily of a friend. Start with writing what you know, I will occasionally write out my thoughts like a novel when I'm trying to sort things out or I'm in a funk, find your thing.

3. How Do You Get Over Stage Fright?

You just do it. Get on stage, it's really the only way I've found to deal with it. A lot of people don't know this but I do have grand stage fright, to the point of running off the stage when I was younger actually. It still bothers me and I'm in constant management with it. If you don't get on stage you'll surely never get over it. Start small. For me going up and performing in front of people who don't know me, acting as a character who was not me, would help tremendously. Occassionally I'll still channel some more confident and emotionally showing version of myself for my performances, it's whatever works as a small step for you. Some people feel more comfortable anon like me, but others may want to start by preforming in front of people they trust and slowly work their way to strangers. Don't push yourself too far to fast, and don't worry about if you start by running off the stage, you get over it.

4. How Do You Self-Publish?

There are several ways to self-publish your books, the way I chose to go through primarily was Amazon. I put my books on their website (not signing their exclusivity contract) and then I can sell it other places. So I've also been trying to add my books to Lulu, I have previews up on Tablo and Wattpad, and I'm selling them to a local bookstore. Amazon prints my books so I do pay them to order the copies but I do not pay the same price as a normal costumer, since they are mine I only pay the cost of shipping and printing. You can find loads of other self-publishing routes with some diligent research, look around and find what's right for you, don't be afraid to ask other authors who self-publish questions at book signings, many are willing to help others.

5. What are the benefits of self publishing?

Since I self-publish my book I get to tell the story my way, without some of the hurtles trade might give me. For instance, my books are quite dark and do contain not only strong language but descriptive violence. When JK Rowling was publishing Harry Potter, Ron actually swore quite a lot, but because the publisher felt the book series would appeal so well to children, they had her change that about the character so as not to poke any parents. Prisoner Nineteen could bring a very wide audience (though I in no way compare my work to Harry Potter) but seeing as the characters are mostly quite young (the main being only fourteen) I could see it drawing in a younger crowd than would be expected for a series like it, because I published it myself, I don't have to worry about that. I market it as YA, and really leave it up to the reader (and their parents) what they feel comfortable reading. This for me is the biggest plus of self-publishing, you get no deadlines and complete creative freedom.

6. How Do You Write A Book?

I can't exactly tell you that. Everyone has a different way of writing their book, I've seen a million different writing styles and writing processes, it's really up to you how you write your book. As for finshing it, what helped me was having a clear goal and deadline in mind.

7. How Do You Balance Everything?

Chaotically. I'm definitely not going to lie and say this is all super easy. Meetings, school, art projects, volunteering, blogs, writing, signings, performances, and whatever else I have to do that week balanced on having a social life and not going crazy? It's not exactly easy. And occasionally you will probably freak out and/or cry from stress and anxiety, that does happen to me sometimes, but if it's what you want to be doing and I mean really want to be doing? Oddly enough, it doesn't feel like work a lot of the times. It feels great to be able to be doing something you actually love and want to be doing. If going a little bit crazy is a part of the process, eh, just makes for better writing and more theatrics. Did the sane man really ever make great art or great changes?

8. How Do You Get Your Stuff?

So usually this is directed towards my merch. Everything you see on my tables is customised and designed by yours truly (save for things like my lights or shell). I get an idea, I plan it out, and I then search all over the internet to find my supplies. (Honey really helps with this. Save money, create smarter.) Look on Pinterest or Tumblr or at other cons to try and think of something that fits your book.

9. How Do You Find The Courage?

Caffeine. Straight to the vein. I just get an iv drip before every apperence.

No but, really it's a lot of channeling your nerves into your work. Of deciding if this is really really really something you wanna be doing. If the answer to that is yes? You'll find your courage and strength. A support system doesn't hurt. If that can't be friends or parents, then you can find it in groups. Look around your local art scene. I'm sure somewhere there's a workshop or two, check on NaNaWrimo they do video chats, join a group on social media, find a pen pal, but nothing can really replace knowing people are rooting for you and knowing that you're working towards your dream goals.

10. How old are you?

I am eighteen years old and my birthday is June 24th, so. You're certainly not too young to do something and make decisions with your life. There is no "starting age" that's when you decide it is.

And to close, the thing that makes you a professional. I really didn't know, but a friend of mine posted online a few days ago "You are a rapper if you are rapping." This I think is true in all things. Especially in art, there is no point when you should ever stop learning, but you are what you are. If you sing, and you're serious about it, you are a singer. If you dance, and you're serious about it, you are a dancer. If you act, and you're serious about it, you are a dancer. If you write, and you're serious about it, you are a writer.

[patricksilvrrozartistry]

Current Music Obsessions: January 16 - 31, 2018

It's time for the last CMO for January, AND I'M ACTUALLY EARLY! I have A LOT to get through in this one because I'm doing an intense purge of my watch later playlist. So let's see those honorable mentions.

Awaken Solace - Moon Over the Mountain Annatar - Reflection Eve's Fall - Enough Edenbridge - A Turnaround in Art Sozos Michael - Life Finds a Way (Helion Prime cover) Aastraal - Majesty of the Nightfall Dragonfly - Silent Scream Nyx Aether - Odyssey of the Forlorn Acid Deathtrip - The Aftermath A Dream of Poe - Lady of Shalott Silent Descent - Voices Origins - The Power Inside Septicflesh - Martyr Kyle Morrison - Mammoth feat. Sean Zatorsky (Sinsaenum), Adrienne Cowan (Light & Shade) Fourth Circle - Iron Drops Dawn of Morgana - Embers Fade Nightmarer - Skinner Eric Hazebroek & Gogo Melone - Winter is Coming Crimfall - Mother of Unbelivers The End Party - Debutante Gary Numan - Ghost Nation Tristania - Pale Enchantress Vanguard - Hyper1one The Sins of Thy Beloved - My Love Shade Empire - Map of Scars The Dark Element - Only One Who Knows Me Meden Agan - The Purge Starset - Frequency Dust in Mind - Anesthesia Dust in Mind - Coward Heilung - Othan (live) The Murder of My Sweet - Echoes of the Aftermath Camila Cabello - Crying in the Club Skies Collide - This Divide

Now for the excessive amount of real obsessions.

1) Edenbridge - The Die is Not Cast

The Great Momentum turned out so much better than I thought it would be. Such a powerful symphonic power metal album with such a strong symphonic element. It's also a lot more aggressive (riff wise) than I was expecting it to be. The chorus is so dramatic and I love it so much. Just an amazing song all the way through.

2) Alwaid - Amphisbaena

This is their latest single off their new album and it's pretty good. It takes a dramatic turn near the end of the song which I really enjoy. It starts out strong and continues to bring throughout the track. I'm definitely am gonna have to give the new album a listen.

3) The Classic Crime - Driftwood

This is a gorgeous atmospheric rock track. If you need something beautiful to chill to, this is it. The singer's voice is so lovely and pleasant and really suits the instrumentals. A very pleasant song.

4) Crystal Gates - Dreamers (Revisited)

This is the second song I've heard from them and holy tits is it amazing. It starts out seeming like it's going to be a pretty ballad track, then it escalates into the chorus and turns into the gorgeous symphonic metal track. And the vocal lines after the first chorus. Gurl. Yes. So good.

5) Adeia - Architect

Found these guys while browsing the metal archives in the Netherlands section. The Dutch prog scene has always been amazing to me, but this band is so different from the ones I've heard in the past. This song is really great and has such a cool vibe to it. I love the subtle symphonic touches to it in the instrumentals.

6) After Forever - My Choice

How am I so late on finding this music video??? I found it out of nowhere one day and got hooked. I've always been a huge fan of After Forever and this is a traditional song of theirs. Very strong vocals as always, but I mean it's Floor Jansen, of course they're gonna be strong. Also I LOVE the bodysuit that Floor wears in this video. It's so cool and funky.

7) Zoe Nash - Rather Die

I have no clue how I found this song, but I absolutely love it. It's so catchy a fun, but with such a dark-ish twist. The way that the background singers sing "I'd rather die" is just a bit to happy sounding. This girl has such a different voice. It's kinda raspy and strange, but so pretty at the same time, which is what has me hooked.

8) Blessed with Rage - Nightfall

This is one of those songs that catch you off guard as to how good it is. I've always have loved bands with a great electronic element to them. I LOVE the edm bit in the bridge. Such a fun touch. It reminds me a bit of We Butter the Bread with Butter, just not as intense and in your face.

9) Lovelorn Dolls - Dead Sea

This song is so great. I'm not too familiar with them, but everything I've heard has been wonderful. The chorus is so simple, but it's so powerful at the same time. It's so weird how that works out. Definitely give this song if you're into gothic metal. Definitely a great jam.

10) Swallow the Sun - Weight of the Dead

I heard this song on Pandora one day a few months ago and finally got around to listening to it on my own time. What a great gothic doom metal track. It really takes off around the last 3 minutes and just evolves into this gorgeous and haunting doom track. It's so powerful. I really need to check out more from them.

11) Banks - Goddess

I haven't heard a bad song from her yet and I'm kinda scared for the day I find something that I don't like. This song is absolutely gorgeous and so fucking pretty. I still don't really know how to label her music. Modern pop? Trip-hop? Experimental? I don't know, but who cares, it's fucking beautiful.

12) Dream Ocean - Forever feat. Jake E. (ex-Amaranthe)

Found this song through a friend on Facebook and it's so pretty. I'm definitely gonna check out more from them, because their singer has such a pretty voice and she herself is really pretty. I mean look at her hair! Anyways, definitely digging this.

13) Unleash the Archers - Ten Thousand Against One

Apex is how their last album should've sounded. I know I keep saying that, but this album is MILES better than the last one. This and Cleanse the Bloodlines have to be my favorites. It's powerful, dramatic and heavy. What more could you ask from an aggressive power metal band?

14) Jucifer - The Mountain

Found these guys when digging through the metal archives to see what the metal scene is like here in Atlanta. Turns out it's not active, just as I expected. But I did find this sludge band here. This song is pure sludge/stoner metal and I love it. I wonder if they'll release any new material any time soon.

15) Dawn of Morgana - Revelations

I found these guys while searching for symphonic metal bands based here in the States that are listed on the metal archives and gurl are they good. It's so hard for me to actually like symphonic metal bands from the States since so many aren't good, but these guys are dramatic and powerful as all get out. Don't sleep on these guys.

16) Tigersclaw - Princess of the Dark

Randomly found this song one day on the recommended videos on YT. It's a pretty good symphonic power metal track. Their singer has a really pretty and high pitched voice and girl can hit a note. It is a bit cheesy, especially since the chorus is repetitive, but it's a great song nonetheless.

17) Amber Asylum - Cardinal Sin (Dead Can Dance cover)

This is the second song I've heard from them and it's absolutely gorgeous. They did a really great job with this cover and making it their own. My question is though is do these guys have any "metal" songs? I found out about these guys while trying to find some prog bands from the States, but this and the other song I've found aren't even metal songs. But besides that, really beautiful and haunting stuff.

18) DRMCTHR - Get Lost

Found this through Spaceuntravel and really dig it. It's almost as if alternative rock and shoegaze had a baby and this song was made. I'm really interested in possibly checking out more from these guys, because this song is really lovely and great to chill to.

19) Crimfall - Wayward Verities

I decided to listen to Amain after hearing a few great songs off it (and also because the cover art features a "naked" dude on it) and this is one of my favorites off it. The bridge is on some other level because it completely shifts tone. It just turns into this epic track in that moment with the choir bits. I also LOVE the yodeling in the intro. Such a great touch.

20) Trail of Tears - Empty Room

Decided to try to find a song off this album after reading an interview Ailyn (ex-Sirenia) did in which she talked about how Emma worked with Trail of Tears before, so I had to find out what exactly she did. That's how I came across this gorgeous and powerful gothic metal track. I honestly prefer Emma here over Sirenia. It just seems as if her voice is more well suited for this kind of music. Definitely check this song out.

21) Gali - Dancing to Another Love Song

Discovered this song through Hellvetika's IG story one day when she posted about having to listen to this song at the gym. I can't remember if she liked it or not, but I decided to give it a go and needless to say I fucking love it. VERY reminiscent of mid 2000's electronica, which was my shit as a tween. I still love it to this day. Such a fun song and girl has some pipes.

22) MILCK - This is Not the End

I discovered her through her song Quiet, so when I saw she dropped a new track, I decided to give it a listen. This song is also a really empowering track and is so lovely. The chorus is rather catchy, but that's necessary when creating a song that's going to be treated as an anthem. The burst of emotion right as the final chorus starts is so wonderful.

23) Sanguine Glacialis - Monsters

Discovered them through their record label and I am so hyped for their upcoming album after hearing this. This song is such a ballbuster. It's been so long since I've found a promising female fronted death metal band. This a bit of an avant-garde metal flare to them that I'm really digging. Oh, and she sounds fucking insane and ferocious.

24) Shade Empire - Lecter (Welcome)

This song is so amazing and is a wonderful start to an amazing album. If you enjoy symphonic black metal, definitely give Poetry for the Ill-Minded a listen. This, Anti-Life Savior and Map of Scars are my favorites. They're all so powerful and leave such a huge impression. I never once thought I'd hear a song about Hannibal Lecter, but here we are with this track.

25) Starset - Unbecoming

This and Satellite have to be my favorites off their new album. It has such a cool vibe and is slightly haunting. The electronic element is so strong and adds this really cool dimension to the music that I am absolutely in love with. Definitely a great jam.

26) Diablo Swing Orchestra - Interruption

Pacifisticuffs is such a fun album and this is one of the many cheesy songs off it. It's cheesy, but in the best way possible. That's how this band works with its cheese. The chorus starts with a strong "ohhhh wah-ohhh" that just sucks you in. So much fun. Definitely can't wait for the day I can see these guys live.

27) Fairy Bones - Killing Me

This is their latest single and it's so fun. I LOVE the blend of psychedelic rock with punk. Such a cool and fun sound. They're always bringing some new vibe in with their music and I always love it. Definitely give these guys a listen.

And that's it for this month! Hopefully next month won't be too long. ANYWAYS, enjoy these great tunes!

[porcileorg]

Discussing the group show ‘sensational and anti-generative successions’ @ Nir Altman, Munich (opened 2019-10-25)

Participating artists: Brandon Covington Sam-Sumana, Steffani Jemison, Ndayé Kouagou, Kengné Téguia Curated by: Cédric Fauq

Conversants: The Bensplainer and Victor Sternweiler ... sitting on a bench at ca. 11 pm, after the opening of the above mentioned exhibition.

The Bensplainer: So, I think it was a good selection.

Victor: Probably the finest show at Nir Altman’s up to date. But it’s a matter of taste.

The Bensplainer: On the other hand, the eccentricity of artists like Ndayé Kouagou and Kengné Téguia allows us to experience some weirdness. Kouagou comes from poetry, thus he’s not a trained visual artist. Nevertheless, there is something genuine about the way he visualized and acted his performance, as well as he presented his sculptures. Yeah, one cannot really say that this performance was somehow new…

Victor: What do you mean with new?

The Bensplainer: There were many 1960s references. The first name which popped into my head is Bruce Nauman, of course. Magda made a further comment, mentioning Samuel Beckett. So, this is the kind of tradition Kouagou seems to refer to, yet interpreting it freely. On a reception level—thus probably only through my eyes and experiences—I also like to see it as an unintentional criticism at analogous performances so popular in Munich: Kouagou didn’t read. He really performed.

Victor: It wasn’t this type of lecture performance.

The Bensplainer: Exactly. Like those by Tris Vonna-Michell some 15 years ago. I find Kouagou’s performance was properly theatrical.

Victor: I don’t think it was theatrical, in the stiff sense performances in the white cube are exercised nowadays, to my perception. It didn’t come as a thoroughly choreographed piece. He reacted to the audience’s reactions and comments in a natural way—call it postdramatic. He probably did it for the 20th time.

The Bensplainer: Isn’t theater ’theater,’ if you perform a piece more than once?

Victor: Even if it was, he performed it very 'leggero.' The reason why I liked it in particular is that most of the white cube performances nowadays don't seem to be informed by what has been happening in theater domain, they come along either as lecture performances or as sacred rituals in dramatic settings—these performances are oftentimes taken too seriously by their originators. The audience is supposed to be quiet and every move feels like an unwelcome interruption.

The Bensplainer: I wrote a message to Magda before, asking about her opinion on the performance, since she had to leave right after.

Magda’s text response: Ndayé was performing his blackness most strongly (or rather the moment I felt my whiteness as part of the all-white audience) was when he said (and I misquote) "I like boundaries - you stand there and I am here." I think he might have also drawn a line with his hands. I wonder whether previous audiences were so homogeneous. What about the Childish Gambino's musical video?

Victor: I don’t know the video in question, but it is funny, because it might have more to do with her general cultural sensibility apperception, than with Kouagou’s performance.

The Bensplainer: Magdalena’s point is interesting, because formally that is consistent: Kouagou was performing with top half naked, only wearing sort of lacerated beige trousers and black sneakers. Gambino’s costume is similar, as he wears some grayish trousers, which could refer to the Confederates' military uniform during the American Civil War. There’s probably a shared symbolism: this might be Magdalena’s suggestion.

Victor: I don’t really buy into that logic by linking gestures in an art performance, say not wearing a shirt, to the notion of origin or even of politics of blackness etc. I find it a very vague link. In that case we could paradoxically link it to Freddie Mercury's persona, as well. I mean, he performed most of his life topless, on stage. But let’s go to the factual description of the performance.

The Bensplainer: Well, in the first part Kouagou came into the gallery space, he carried a plastic white chair, then put it on one side of the invisible stage of the gallery.

Victor: That plastic garden chair is perhaps the most popular design object ever.

The Bensplainer: He turned on some music from his phone. He started moving quite mechanically à la Nauman, tracing a square around the chair on the floor, at first only step by step – 2 steps each side –, then framing it with tape for the audience. That task remained incomplete. Then he sat down on the chair, and stopped the music. So, the performance’s second act started, and it was about him performing his material, randomly moving his body or the chair outside and inside the taped square. He acted in a Beckett-style text.

Victor: Kouagou seemed to improvise it, talking about love, and “I don’t know what I’m doing here” alike, so back and forth. Quite an ironic commentary of him on the bourgeois type of galleries’ audience, I think. But what do you think about his objects?

The Bensplainer: You mean the sculptures, the Untitled (no dates) hanging from the ceiling? These are more problematic in my view. They were stashed between, I think, two layers of A3-sized Plexiglas. On one side there was printed some texts, which echoed what he recited within the performance. Inside the two plexiglass sheets, there were shirts crystalized with resin.

Victor: Then there was the frame jeans jacket, half folded and wrinkled.

The Bensplainer: This kind of visualization is very typical today—Seth Price’s practice comes to mind—as well as this kind of autobiographical attitude.

Victor: What was written on the objects?

The Bensplainer: Again, some statements which recalled the performance, which showed existential frailty.

Victor: Resembling his performance, so to speak.

The Bensplainer: Exactly, like a repetition with difference.

Victor: I liked the way his objects were installed, hanging from the ceiling in that space. There was no wall behind defining their aura. You can generate 360 images when looking at them—a parallax effect. I would like to see them in a real living space situation and I hope nobody installs them close to a wall.

The Bensplainer: They are theatrical in this sense.

Victor: You insist on the term theater, but then we have to talk about Micheal Fried’s rejection of theatricality. I disagree with Michael Fried here.

The Bensplainer: Me too. So, let’s talk about Téguia’s videos.

Victor: I’m really curious about what you have to say about them, because, at an opening like that, there are so many people one happens to know and to greet, so I had to skip them completely. Prior to that, let’s talk a bit about the objects that were put or installed on the floor of the gallery.

The Bensplainer: I don't know really, since those works by Steffani Jamison didn't really catch my gaze.

Victor: The two transparent Plexiglas objects [Untitled (De Appel) (2018)] with a painted gesture on them, as big as a hand. They looked like those floor caution signs 'Danger – Slippery,' but the objects were transparent. I’d love to see that, installed in a non-white cube ambient where people would bump into. There I think of that Barnett Newman quote “Sculpture is what you bump into when you back up to look at a painting.”

The Bensplainer: As every great abstract painter, Newman has a sense for wit. At the same time Jamison's two sculptures may also be seen as a straight translation into Plexiglas of very common trestles, found in every artist's studio. The ironic element is clear to me, but not its pictorial concept though. On the other hand, Téguia's three video installations challenged me. All three were shown on cube monitors (CRT) placed on the floor and the audio got blasted through rather modest loudspeakers. The three works deal with repetition both in moving image and sound. As for the moving images–being a mysterious shadow figure in Times goes by so slowly (2015), a recut of Disney classic Snowhite in Blanche-Neige is my Bitch (2015), or a fragmented reality in Soul Sista x Kameugné (2014)—they are a reflection on Dara Birnbaum's practice, I suppose. Nevertheless, Téguia added complexity to it with the sound. It is not simply about Birnbaum's manipulation of a found object then, but about his own effort to cover some pop songs while dealing with his deafness. Not that personal narratives were here at stake as a statement: instead, the general claim–that we can understand the world logo-centrically–was questioned here. Who's speaking, and how? And who's hearing, and how? The indeterminacy of perception was accompanied by the observer's possibility to engage relationally with the work, picking up the loudspeaker and listening materially to the sound through its vibration.

Victor: Sounds cool. Can't say anything about it. What’s our next drink? …

The Bensplainer: GRAPPA!

[silkyandsurveys]

July 28 2017

1: when you have cereal, do you have more milk than cereal or more cereal than milk? More milk than cereal 2: do you like the feeling of cold air on your cheeks on a wintery day? Yes I love winter 3: what random objects do you use to bookmark your books? I just fold the page 4: how do you take your coffee/tea? I don't take it at all 5: are you self-conscious of your smile? Yes I'm super self conscious of my smile I used to not be until people started pointing it out 6: do you keep plants? No cause they die really easily 7: do you name your plants? No 8: what artistic medium do you use to express your feelings? I write in a journal 9: do you like singing/humming to yourself? I love singing so much I wish I was good at it more than anything lol 10: do you sleep on your back, side, or stomach? Back and side always 11: what's an inner joke you have with your friends? To many to list or count 12: what's your favorite planet? Neptune and Uranus ;) 13: what's something that made you smile today? I hung out with one of my sisters friends and we always have a good time 14: if you were to live with your best friend in an old flat in a big city, what would it look like? MESS 15: go google a weird space fact and tell us what it is! No 16: what's your favorite pasta dish? Chicken alfredo always and forever 17: what color do you really want to dye your hair? Purple would be so cool 18: tell us about something dumb/funny you did that has since gone down in history between you and your friends and is always brought up. Me and my two very close best friends decided to make slime and throw it at my ceiling and pieces of it are forever stuck to my ceiling. Me and my friend were peeing our pants everywhere 19: do you keep a journal? what do you write/draw/ in it? I keep notebooks around that I randomly and rarely write and draw in but I have a notebook app that I frequently write in. Just about my day or my week 20: what's your favorite eye color? brown and hazel like yesss they're so pretty 21: talk about your favorite bag, the one that's been to hell and back with you and that you love to pieces. Can't say I have one 22: are you a morning person? Noooooo 23: what's your favorite thing to do on lazy days where you have 0 obligations? Lay in my bed and go on my phone 24: is there someone out there you would trust with every single one of your secrets? Yeah kinda 25: what's the weirdest place you've ever broken into? A car at a car dealership lmao 26: what are the shoes you've had for forever and wear with every single outfit? I used to be obsessed with toms but currently my converse 27: what's your favorite bubblegum flavor? Watermelon forever bitch 28: sunrise or sunset? Sunset of course 29: what's something really cute that one of your friends does and is totally endearing? She's really really smiley and I pick at her for it but it's actually really nice 30: think of it: have you ever been truly scared? Yes 31: what is your opinion of socks? do you like wearing weird socks? do you sleep with socks? do you confine yourself to white sock hell? really, just talk about socks. Socks are make or break situation. 32: tell us a story of something that happened to you after 3AM when you were with friends. Spent 3 hours making a video star to its everyday bro by Jake Paul. All the words are engraved into my brain 33: what's your fave pastry? Cheese danish bitch 34: tell us about the stuffed animal you kept as a kid. what is it called? what does it look like? do you still keep it? Lamb pillow pet. Named lamby. Just look up lamb pillow pet but the fur on it is all fucked yo because my mom put it in the dryer. And yes I still have it 35: do you like stationary and pretty pens and so on? do you use them often? No 36: which band's sound would fit your mood right now? None my brain is literally white noise right now I'm so tired 37: do you like keeping your room messy or clean? Clean 38: tell us about your pet peeves! There's so many I'm not abot to get into that mess 39: what color do you wear the most? Dark colors for sure 40: think of a piece of jewelry you own: what's it's story? does it have any meaning to you? I have a necklace with my name on it. Got it from my grandma I wore it a lot in seventh grade aka one of the worst years ever 41: what's the last book you remember really, really loving? Elenor and park 42: do you have a favorite coffee shop? describe it! No because I hate coffee and I'm not a hashtag Tumblr aesthetic girl so I don't go running around trying to find aesthetic coffee shopsn 43: who was the last person you gazed at the stars with? I legit don't remember 44: when was the last time you remember feeling completely serene and at peace with everything? Probably at night in a car when I was like 10 45: do you trust your instincts a lot? Yes 46: tell us the worst pun you can think of. Ok found this joke from a vine don't @ me. Anal with her made my day. But it made her hole week. Bitch I die 47: what food do you think should be banned from the universe? Twinkies. Beef sticks. Tomatoes. Mushrooms. 48: what was your biggest fear as a kid? is it the same today? Car crashes. Thunderstorms/ natural disasters. And yes 100% 49: do you like buying CDs and records? what was the last one you bought? No it's dumb I pay Apple Music 14$ a month for a reason 50: what's an odd thing you collect? I used to collect snow gloves but for some reason and somehow I have a lot of turtles from a bunch of different places. Like little turtle souvenirs 51: think of a person. what song do you associate with them? My crush and it's so dumb but hey Stephen by Taylor swift damn. 52: what are your favorite memes of the year so far? All of them 53: have you ever watched the rocky horror picture show? heathers? beetlejuice? pulp fiction? what do you think of them? No.no.yes.no. Idk I haven't seen like any of them 54: who's the last person you saw with a true look of sadness on their face? Ummmmm my face in the mirror idk 55: what's the most dramatic thing you've ever done to prove a point? Ummm not sure everything I do is dramatic so 56: what are some things you find endearing in people? It's 1am and I can't remember what endearing means 57: go listen to bohemian rhapsody. how did it make you feel? did you dramatically reenact the lyrics? It reminds me of glee. And ps I didn't listen to it just in my head I imagine Jessie sprinting around stage whilst Quinn gives birth so that's an image 58: who's the wine mom and who's the vodka aunt in your group of friends? why? My friend abby is the vodka aunt and my friend julia is the wine mom 59: what's your favorite myth? Mermaids 60: do you like poetry? what are some of your faves? No 61: what's the stupidest gift you've ever given? the stupidest one you've ever received? Little einsteins singing toy when I was 9 years old from m great grandma. Lol love! 62: do you drink juice in the morning? which kind? No 63: are you fussy about your books and music? do you keep them meticulously organized or kinda leave them be? No I own like 4 books 64: what color is the sky where you are right now? Black 65: is there anyone you haven't seen in a long time who you'd love to hang out with? Yeah some friends from school I miss 66: what would your ideal flower crown look like? Ew shut up (roses) 67: how do gloomy days where the sky is dark and the world is misty make you feel? Sad and gross 68: what's winter like where you live? Brutal but I <3 it 69: what are your favorite board games? Uno and spoons and don't come at me saying they're not board games because I don't care 70: have you ever used a ouija board? No im not about to release that shit in my home 71: what's your favorite kind of tea? I don't like tea but if I had to choose sweet passion green tea from Panera fucks major shit up 72: are you a person who needs to note everything down or else you'll forget it? No 73: what are some of your worst habits? Biting my nails. Chewing the inside of my gum and picking at the skin on my thumbs 74: describe a good friend of yours without using their name or gendered pronouns. Awesomely cool dude 75: tell us about your pets! Annoying but cute sometimes I guess 76: is there anything you should be doing right now but aren't? Sleeping 77: pink or yellow lemonade? Pink always 78: are you in the minion hateclub or fanclub? Hateclub I would say j always have been but I'm gonna be honest and expose myself for wearing a minion shirt to school in fifth grade. Soo. 79: what's one of the cutest things someone has ever done for you? Ummm not sure 80: what color are your bedroom walls? did you choose that color? if so, why? Dark purple. No I did not. I wanted lilac but since I'm the younger sister I don't get to choose 81: describe one of your friend's eyes using the most abstract imagery you can think of. Ocean 82: are/were you good in school? Yeah 83: what's some of your favorite album art? Ummm the flower boy album that just came out is really cool 84: are you planning on getting tattoos? which ones? Eh they seem cool and I like them but I feel like trendy tattoos are the most regretful 85: do you read comics? what are your faves? No 86: do you like concept albums? which ones? Yeah. Not any in specific 87: what are some movies you think everyone should watch at least once in their lives? Cuberbully lmao it's kinda cringey but it's so good and hatchi because that shit has made me hyperventilate. Omg and titanic 88: are there any artistic movements you particularly enjoy? ???? Again 1:30 am brain doesn't understand 89: are you close to your parents? Yeah 90: talk about your one of you favorite cities. I love philly don't get mad at me for loving trash 91: where do you plan on traveling this year? My home and my school 92: are you a person who drowns their pasta in cheese or a person who barely sprinkles a pinch? GIVE ME ALL THE CHEESE 93: what's the hairstyle you wear the most? just done or in a ponytail 94: who was the last person you know to have a birthday? The boy I like lol 95: what are your plans for this weekend? Well I hope it's to hang out with my friends but work is a stupid bitch 96: do you install your computer updates really quickly or do you procrastinate on them a lot? Procrastinate 97: myer briggs type, zodiac sign, and hogwarts house? Idk off the top of my head. Aquarius. I think gryffindor 98: when's the last time you went hiking? did you enjoy it? For a school field trip and no becaue I was sweating and dying 99: list some songs that resonate to your soul whenever you hear them. I won't mind by zayn <3 that song because it explains my whole life that literally any body I like will not be mine ever! 100: if you were presented with two buttons, one that allows you to go 5 years into the past, the other 5 years into the future, which one would you press? why? 5 years in the future maybe?

[dandelliongirl]

Poetry

with grandmum.

Last week was a bit busier with work. I had three meetings and one briefing to a group of students. I spent a few hours at the office on Tuesday as well. Other than that I worked on reading stuff for my thesis and studying video games for our game studies group. I also had ballet, taught my dance classes and went skiing.

I finally got my N7 jacket in the mail. It was quite the adventure and the post office staff had to call the delivery people on several occasions. I got the announcement of a package waiting for me on Monday, and going to get it on Tuesday I found out they didn’t have it. Also, the barcode that was supposed to be on the package was stuck on the paper with the corresponding half of the barcode so my package wasn’t logged in any of their systems. I went back on Wednesday and still no sign of it. They promised to call the delivery people and managed to call me back on Thursday. They said the delivery guy had “accidentally” put the piece of paper into my mailbox, and tried to fix their mistake by putting the other side of the barcode sticker on the paper as well. Obviously this couldn’t have been true because a) if they didn’t have a package for me, how could they have known my first name or randomly decided to write down my address out of everyone else in this city, and b) if they had made a mistake there is no way they would’ve been able to fish out the paper from my mailbox and put the other side of the sticker on it. Also c) if they did fish out the paper why did they put it back if it was a mistake in the first place? I called the lady at the post office on this delivery person’s bullshit and she promised to call them back. She was very sceptical at first and kept asking me if I was sure that I hadn’t already gone to retrieve the package. You’d think I’d known if I’d gone to the post office..? Anyway after like 15 minutes she called me back saying they found the package and it was on their shelf all along - just without a code like I knew it would be. I went and got it after my meetings on Thursday and I’ve basically been wearing the jacket ever since. It’s really nice. ♥

Me and dad went skiing on Thursday and it was a lot of fun. We did a 4-ish kilometer ski trip and I spent the rest of the day watching TV and napping at home. It was awesome ♥ I had ballet in the evening though and all this skiing and pointe shoes have my feet aching real bad.

Friday was packed with a meeting from 8 to 9 am, our game studies group meeting from 9 to 10:45, my briefing from 11 to 11:30, thesis seminar from 12 to 2pm, and finally a quick lunch and packing stuff for work from 4pm to 6pm. I went to stay the night with mum and dad, and spent the first night in my renovated room. It still doesn’t have lights but other than that. It felt super weird to think that nothing (apart from my bed) that made it my room is there anymore. I’m kind of sad I didn’t take pictures before - in a way - my childhood was demolished. It does look really pretty though but I feel weird, almost as if it hasn’t hit me yet. I can’t believe last Christmas was the last I saw of my room as I’ve known it for more than ten years...

Another thing that I felt really weird about was obviously Trump’s inauguration speech. All that talk of “America first” and “patriotism” and strong metaphors of “we all bleed the same red” or whatever just made it seem really really scary. It was genuinely upsetting to watch so I focused on making fun of his weird hand gestures. We’ll see... Our historical research methods class is going to practice discourse analysis on his speech on Wednesday so that should be interesting. He is such a populist. Imagine if everyone in the world only cared about themselves the way he wants countries to?

So we went grocery shopping and skiing on Saturday morning. It was a nice and sunny little ski trip despite my feet being so achey and tired. Dad made spaghetti bolognese and granny came over. We talked for a while and in the afternoon mum took me and granny to my apartment to record the final versions of our poetry project. Now it’s up to me to find background sound effects and to edit and burn the CDs. I already told granny we’d have a big party for when the CD comes out. It has been so special working with her. She’s an artist and there’s so much meaning behind her words when she recites a poem. You can tell it’s what she loves to do, and what she wants to leave us with when she’s gone. I was trying to persuade her to write some kind of an introduction to the project with a few words about her life with poetry. She seemed a bit apprehensive but I hope I can get her to do it since it’d be so valuable for future generations to know the thought behind the project and to know something about her as well. Even I don’t know a whole lot about granny because to her talking about herself is selfish and rude. She’s always been a listener and I’ve inherited that from her. Anyway I love her to bits and I can’t wait to hand her the finished product. ♥ We’ve spent my childhood performing at kindergartens, organizing events and her telling me endless amounts of stories. She helped me with the poetry part of my IB finals and she recited a lovely poem at my confirmation party. Now this could very well be our last art project together. I have to make it count.

Next weekend will be my big training for my job of doing social media at the world championships. I don’t know yet if I’m going to be taking the bus or driving over there. I’ve planned to spend Tuesday at the office again and I’ve got my methods lecture on Thursday. Oh and a group meeting on Friday.

My guy’s about to return from his parents’ and I promised to go meet him at the bus station in about 30 minutes. I should also go over a DVD of Coppélia since our spring show theme for my dance school is a toy factory and I’d love for us to do something related to that. Coppélia is one of my favourite ballets alongside Giselle and the Nutcracker.

I’m starting to feel the Dragon Age Inquisition hype again. I’d really want to play but I need to go to Halamshiral next and I hate the place with a passion. My guy just did Priority: Thessia in ME3 and has been really into the multiplayer, which doesn’t leave me much time with my PC, heh. In ACNL I just got my golden fishing rod and I’m trying desperately to finish my mermaid set by visting the island daily. So far they’ve had 90% cabana seres since Christmas with like the mermaid chair or the mermaid bed on there a few times. I’ve also got over 300 medals because I take at least one tour every time I visit so... I’m scared of the eventual launch of a new Animal Crossing on the Nintendo Switch since I can’t just leave Sonetia behind and start a new life in a new town but I can’t possibly manage two at the same time! I will also have to buy the console because since it’s portable I won’t be able to use my guy’s Switch for it.. Yikes.

Now I really have to hurry off to the bus station. I can’t believe January is coming to an end already! Wow..

[dramacurrent]

Even though Ma Sung and Gi Bbeum have found each other again, things are not as easy the second time around.  Will their fated connection be enough to draw them back together?  Devilish Joy Episode 2 gives us more questions than it answers.  (We are doing this people!  We are going to recap all of Devilish Joy.)

Recap Devilish Joy Episode 2

We open where we left off in the last episode.  Gong Ma Sung(Choi Jin Hyuk) stands over Joo Gi Bbeum(Song Ha Yoon) and demands what she is doing with her camera.  Gruffly, he orders her to hand him the camera and reaches out his hand.  As he does, his sleeve pulls up and Gi Bbeum sees for the first time the tattoo of the memory flower on his hand.

Memories swarm back to Gi Bbeum of their day together and seeing the memory flower.  Unaware Ma Sung doesn’t remember her, she hides her face.  But Ma Sung is still fixated on the camera.  When she doesn’t give it to him, he pulls it from her hands and sends it flying to the floor.  In the same instance, the camera breaks and Gi Bbeum’s bag of stinky fish splatter at their feet.

Ma Sung scolds her and turns to leave.  But, seeing the expensive camera broken, Gi Bbeum leaps to her feet and yells at him, “Hold up, Mr. Gong Ma Sung!”

Ma Sung’s countenance shifts in surprise.  “Did you call my name?”

“Yes! Don’t you remember me?” Gi Bbeum barks.

“Are you so important to be worth remembering?”  Ma Sung asks her and turning to go steps on one of her many spilt fish.  Angrily he tells her to clean them up.

In that moment, jerk cameraman arrives to see his camera in shatters on the floor.  He yells at Gi Bbeum while she stands numbly apologizing.

Back in his office, Ma Sung trashes his soiled shoes.

Later that day, Gi Bbeum sits across from her friend Ko Nan Joo(Lee Soo Ji) (Aw, it’s the pig-tailed assistant.  Note: we will be calling her Nan Joo from now on.) and sorts her fish.  She tells Nan Joo about meeting Ma Sung.  Nan Joo doesn’t seem at all surprised that Ma Sung didn’t recognize Gi Bbeum.  She is convinced he did remember her, but didn’t want to admit it considering how differently Gi Bbeum is from back then.  Gi Bbeum decides her friend is right.  “Whatever!” she tells her.

Gi Bbeum tries to give her friend some of her fish as a “thank you” for helping her set up her clothing store when she didn’t even have money for rent, but Nan Joo is less than thrilled to accept the smelly red gurnards.  She carries the bag of fish at arm’s length into the other room.

Walking home, Gi Bbeum discovers tabloids pasted on the side of a building advertising “Joo Gi Bbeum’s Closet: Amazing Sales.”  embarrassed for people to see how fall she has fallen, she begins to tear the sheets from the wall and window.

That night, Ma Sung is dropped off at home by his secretary chauffeur.  But before he goes in, his driver asks why Ma Sung is not wearing his shoes.  “I threw them out,” he grumpily tells the man and asks for him to buy the exact same shoes for tomorrow so he isn’t confused.

At her home, Gi Bbeum’s younger brother, Joo Ja Rang(Kang Yoon Je,) cooks red gurnards for dinner while Gi Bbeum watches.  Gi Bbeum asks what happened to the gas to their stove, and he tells her it was turned off by the company.  Gi Bbeum doesn’t seems totally surprised.  Continuing to cook, Ja Rang asks if she is not scared of the sea now, seeing as she went out on a boat today.  “I’m more scared of not catching fish.”  She tells him honestly.

Their conversation is interrupted by the sound of Gi Bbeum’s younger sister, Joo Sa Rang(Kim Ji Young) pushing their very drunk father in a shopping cart.

The siblings sit down to eat their fish dinner while their father(Oh Gwang Rok) lies on the floor beside the table.  Randomly, he pops up to quote pieces of poetry at them.  As their dad falls back asleep on the floor, Gi Bbeum notices the rude words on her younger sister’s shirt: “What are you looking at!?!”  Motherly, she tells her to not wear the rude shirt and instead to wear something from Gi Bbeum’s store.  As she pulls clothes from her backpack, Ja Rang notices the crumpled tabloids at the bottom of the pack.  He is annoyed, but Gi Bbeum makes light of them, telling him she is saving the paper for recycling.

At his own home, Ma Sung is also eating dinner.  Ironically, the menu for tonight is red gurnard, which (hilariously) annoys him.

Before bed, Ma Sung goes to his room of notes to write down his memories for tomorrow.  He is careful to detail each part of the day, but when he gets to his meeting with Gi Bbeum, he tells himself.  “It is a blessing to forget about such incidents,” and leaves her out.

Back at Gi Bbeum’s house, she heads to bed in the room she shares with her younger sister.  Laying down on the bottom bunk, she wistfully stares at the headshots of her former self tucked in the bars above her head.

At precisely 10pm, Ma Sung lays down to sleep.

We watch as the light around him darkens and then reemerges with the dawn.  As is his custom, Ma Sung awakes and goes to take a shower.  But as he stands under the water a memory of Gi Bbeum from yesterday flashes through his mind.  Startled, Ma Sung stands dripping and wonders who the woman is in his mind.

Now on a mission, Ma Sung rushes to his Memory Room to read over his notes from yesterday.  But, of course, there is nothing to be found about the mystery woman.  Still more baffled, Ma Sung calls his secretary to come quickly.

The secretary arrives carrying Ma Sung’s replacement shoes.  Ma Sung hands the man a sketch he has drawn of Gi Bbeum with her mound of fish and camera parts.  The driver wonders if maybe the woman was just a nightmare of Ma Sung’s.  But Ma Sung reminds him that he hasn’t had a dream in three years. After determining it wasn’t a dream, he realizes excitedly that Ma Sung remembered something for the first time.  (I’d disliked this guy before, but his reaction is so genuinely happy for Ma Sung I might have to change my mind.)

Across town Gi Bbeum enters jerk cameraman’s office cautiously.  She tries to give him clothes for his family as a peace-offering, but jerk cameraman won’t even let her near him.  The broken camera’s lens alone will cost him almost $2,300 to replace.  Gi Bbeum is very penitent and promises to buy the lens for him.  Jerk cameraman accepts her offer but fires her anyway, convinced she brings bad luck.  Gi Bbeum relents, but only if he promises to delete the embarrassing video he took of her.  Angrily, he barks that the video was deleted when the camera broke.  (I smell a rat.)

Calmly, Gi Bbeum heads to work at her shop, “Fantastic.”  Her phone is filled with text messages from people, but they aren’t customers with orders.  Instead, the phone rings with one hateful anti-fan text after another.  Without expression, she replies a reminder to them to only text with orders.

At the same time current star Lee Ha Im(Joo Yeon) sits in her van taking selfies on her phone.  Her assistant begs her to exit the van for the shoot, but Lee Ha Im keeps the door locked.  She calls him on his phone to tell him she won’t come out today because the dust is too heavy.  The assistant tries to relay her message to the director but is only told to try again.

Outside the van, Nan Joo and her team stand impatiently waiting for the spoiled starlet.  As they do, Gi Bbeum calls Nan Joo’s phone to tell her she has been fired.  Nan Joo is actually relieved she isn’t working for jerk cameraman anymore — she was sure he was a con artist anyhow.  Gi Bbeum assures her he wasn’t.  However, Nan Joo is not convinced and questions whether Gi Bbeum made sure the embarrassing video he took of her was deleted.  Gi Bbeum assures her he wouldn’t upload it.  (I have a bad feeling about where this is going.)  Since she’s jobless now Gi Bbeum asks if she could work at Nan Joo’s shop every day now, which Nan Joo emphatically answers her she can.

They hang up, but Nan Joo forgets to end the call.  Gi Bbeum continues to listen as Nan Joo’s team begs her to not let Gi Bbeum work with them.  Annoyed with them, Nan Joo defends her friend vehemently.  Sighing heavily, Gi Bbeum she presses the end button on her phone.

At Ma Sung’s company, his aunt stands in her office talking with her advisors and Ma Sung’s secretary and doctor.  The advisors tell her that her son, Ki Joon(Hoya), left the US early and has arrived in Korea already without her knowing.  Mom is furious and tells them to freeze his credit cards.

Her face now slipping into a smile, Aunt asks them how Ma Sung is doing.  They tell her of the “Healing Village” he is creating for dementia patients.  Although a good intention, they are concerned that the village will not be profitable.  She then turns to ask Ma Sung’s doctor how Ma Sung is doing physically.  He tells her honestly that he is not improving.  Turning her attention, she asks Ma Sung’s secretary, to ask for his schedule.  (This woman is giving me the creeps.  Every time she is around she is trying to put down or control Ma Sung or Ki Joon.)

Downstairs Ma Sung tries to lead a meeting on his new “Healing Village,” but his mind keeps distracting him with the memory of Gi Bbeum.

After the meeting ends he goes to visit his doctor.  The doctor is confounded to hear about his new memory, but Ma Sung has a theory.  (I forget Ma Sung is a neuroscientist too.)  He believes that the reason this memory was saved is because of a special relationship he must share with the mystery woman.

Afterwards, Ma Sung asks his secretary to locate the woman in his drawing. But the secretary is incredulous and scoffs that Ma Sung has become weirder lately, first with the new shoes and now this.  Baffled, Ma Sung retorts that he bought his own shoes in Milan long ago.  But the driver assures him he asked him to buy an identical pair yesterday.  Ma Sung shakes his head, wondering why he asked for replacement shoes.

Across town, Ki Joon stands in front of his entertainment agency building, sighing happily.  As he does, Lee Ha Im’s van pulls up to the building.  Ki Joon immediately recognizes her as the woman his mom slapped at the beauty shop and happily tries to start a conversation.  Lee Ha Im, however, isn’t interested.  But when she tries to enter the building, she can’t remember her password and Ki Joon has to let her in.

Inside, Lee Ha Im talks with her manager about some new scripts she’s been looking over.  (Gasp! It’s Gi Bbeum’s horrible manager from last episode.)   She isn’t happy with the scripts she’s been offered, insisting that she can only star in a “masterpiece.”  Her manager cruelly puts her down, even comparing her to Gi Bbeum when she threatens to end her contract.  Lee Ha Im is finally annoyed but subdued.

Upstairs, Ki Joon enters his entertainment agency just as his manager tells an assistant how he hates Ki Joon and wants to humiliate him.  But Ki Joon only hears “humiliate” and thinks it is a joke.  He eagerly tells his manager he ran into Lee Ha Im downstairs.  The manager is impressed, but Ki Joon declares she really wasn’t as pretty in person, nothing like Gi Bbeum.

However, his manager doesn’t agree and tells him that the only way their tiny company will survive is if Ki Joon can sign Lee Ha Im.   Ki Joon pouts that he thought he was going to be a big star for them.  But the manager tells him that he can’t make a comeback right now and suggests he give up and crawl back to his mom.  When pressed, they admit Ki Joon’s company is broke.  It is then that Ki Joon realizes his mom has cut off his funding.

Back at his office, Ma Sung is puzzling over his new shoes when Ki Joon calls his phone.  He tries to ignore the call, but Ki Joon bursts through the door, surprising him.  It is the first time Ki Joon has seen Ma Sung since the accident three years ago.  They bond for a moment before Ki Joon adorably (and hilariously) begs his cousin to buy him lunch.

On the way they fuss about everything from the menu to the car music.  But Ki Joon has a special surprise for Ma Sung.  Instead of a restaurant, he takes him to his entertainment agency, “Star Entertainment.”  Ki Joon starts to tell Ma Sung his tale of financial woe, but is interrupted immediately.  Ma Sung saw this trap coming from miles away.  He may have money, but he is a doctor not a real estate investor.

But Ki Joon persists.  There is someone he needs to save.  Ma Sung is intrigued at that choice of word, but Ki Joon will only tell him it is someone who was wrongfully framed.  Ki Joon brings all his cuteness to bear and begs his cousin to invest in him.  Ma Sung finally asks how much it costs; at which point Ki Joon launches at him in a hug.  (Aww, loving the bromance here.)

Moments later, Ma Sung signs the contract over lunch.  As Ki Joon stuffs his mouth, Ma Sung questions him about the strange memory he has had today.  Through his food, Ki Joon declares it must be an unrequited love that is causing Ma Sung to keep thinking about her.  Perhaps she is his lover?  (This kid is smarter than he acts.) However, Ma Sung is unamused.

After lunch, Ki Joon drops Ma Sung back off at work just as his phone rings.  It is the manager’s assistant with terrible news.  The embarrassing video of Gi Bbeum is online.

Around town Gi Bbeum’s brother discovers people watching the video and calls to warn his sister.  Too late Gi Bbeum rushes to jerk cameraman’s office.  The building is empty.

At the same time, Ma Sung discovers his secretary watching the clip.  The man shows him the video, but instead of laughing like everyone else, Ma Sung is startled to recognize the woman from his memory.  The driver laughs in amazement when Ma Sung tells him this is the woman they are searching for.  How can they be searching for THE Joo Gi Bbeum?

But, having lived out of the country before his accident, Ma Sung has no idea who Joo Gi Bbeum is.  The driver pulls up an old news video to watch from when Gi Bbeum was accused of killing Min Hyung Joon.  The newscaster explains that even though Joo Gi Bbeum was found not guilty, her image was ruined and all her supporters and sponsors turned on her.  His interest piqued, Ma Sung asks his secretary to look for Joo Gi Bbeum.

Not long after, the secretary returns.  He has discovered Gi Bbeum’s online store, a phone number where she can be texted to place orders, and her home address.

Later at home, Ma Sung stares at the note with Gi Bbeum’s contact info.  After hesitating, he throws the note to the ground — only for it to stick to his foot.

Back at their store, Nan Joo scolds Gi Bbeum for not confirming the video was deleted.  As Gi Bbeum literally pulls her hair in frustration, a text message alert rings on her phone.  It is Ma Sung with a message: “Can I place an order?”  When she doesn’t respond right away, he adds “20 pieces of clothing.”

But Gi Bbeum can’t imagine anyone would place an order with her right now and ignores his text.

When she still does not answer him, Ma Sung sends another text, “I mean, 50 pieces.”  Now Nan Joo and Gi Bbeum really think he is crazy.

Deciding it is still not enough, Ma Sung sends a final text.  “100 pieces!”  This does it.  Nan Joo and Gi Bbeum bounce with joy as they realize what a sale like this means for them.  Trying to keep her voice calm, Gi Bbeum calls her new customer.

“Hello, I’m from the Fantastic Shopping Mall” she cheerfully chirps when Ma Sung answers.  Her voice stays business like as she confirms that he really wants his large order, but outwardly her whole body riggles with joy.  He confirms he does want his order, which send the two girls into thrills of excitement.

“But I do have one condition.”  Ma Sung interrupts their joy to announce.  “The owner of this cellphone, so in other words, the owner of this shop must deliver the clothes herself.”

Thinking this a very suspicious request, the girls tell him that it isn’t possible.  But when Ma Sung threatens to cancel his order, Gi Bbeum immediately relents and agrees to come herself.

After hanging up, Nan Joo wonders whether the customer is some sort of weirdo to make that request.  But Gi Bbeum karate chops her in reply.  “I’m more concerned about not getting any orders!”  She snaps and hurries off to gather the order.

Soon after Gi Bbeum crosses town carrying a big black bag full of clothes.  She calls Ma Sung’s cell for directions.  However, instead of directly telling her where his house is, Ma Sung sends her through a series of ridiculous lefts and rights and up flight after flight of stairs as a test of her character.

Finally in front of Ma Sung’s house, Gi Bbeum moans to herself, “Of all places.  I used to live here.”

Seeing her outside his door, Ma Sung nods his head.  It really is the girl from his memory.  The door open, Gi Bbeum pulls her black burden awkwardly inside.

But when she raises her eyes Gi Bbeum is astonished to see Ma Sung is her mystery buyer.  “You’re the one who placed the order?”  She says in amazement.

Inside Ma Sung continues to test her patience by ordering her to pull her load of clothes to the bedroom and then the bathroom.  But when Gi Bbeum goes to the various places without needing to be told where they are, he becomes very curious.

Gi Bbeum doesn’t want him to know she was the previous owner, though, and tells him that house plans are all very similiar.  Ma Sung doesn’t buy it.

“You know me, don’t you?”  He asks her directly.  “This is a very important question to me so answer me seriously.  I feel like you know me.  Perhaps did we used to date?”

But Gi Bbeum misunderstands his meaning, assuming that he is asking because he is a flirt who can’t remember her from among his many dates.  “We didn’t date.”  She snaps at him.  Still annoyed, she wonders aloud if it bothers him that he broke the camera lens yesterday.  This triggers a memory of the camera breaking for Ma Sung, and he offers to pay for the damage.

Gi Bbeum tells him the totals for the camera lens and the clothes he ordered.  After transferring the money into her account, Ma Sung tells her that he doesn’t really want the clothes afterall.  He had called her to ask a question and he believes the reward was enough for the cost of her time.  She can “throw the clothes out”, he tells her.

Tearfully Gi Bbeum asks if he will regret his decision.  (I spy a deeper meaning.)  But Ma Sung retorts that he won’t regret what he won’t remember tomorrow.  (I know that this answer makes sense from his perspective, but from from Gi Bbeum’s viewpoint, ouch.)  Before leaving with her clothes, Gi Bbeum straightens and tells Ma Sung that although these clothes might not be worth anything to him, they are her a matter of survival to her.

But standing outside his house, Gi Bbeum is far less brave.  She crouches down in the street and reminds herself not to cry.  (Sniff! I’m not crying, you are.)

On street in front of Gi Bbeum’s home, Ki Joon sits watching the road.  When suddenly Sa Rang slams down on his windshield making him squeal in fear.  She glares at him through the windshield with eyes of death before pulling off and heading inside.  But Ki Joon is undeterred and runs after her.

“Is this where Joo Gi Bbeum lives?” He asks her.  Sa Rang retorts that it is her house before turning to go.  As she leaves we see her shirt again rudely states “What are you lookin’ at!?!”

Just then Gi Bbeum herself comes walking down the road awkwardly dragging her black load.  Ki Joon’s smile explodes across his face when he sees and goes running toward her.  “You’re still shinning as ever, my first love.”  He says happily.

However, Gi Bbeum has no idea who he is and pulls back in confusion.  “Who are you?”  She asks.  In reply he tells her they were in a drama together five years ago and that they even kissed.

At that Gi Bbeum does start to remember.  In flashback we see a much younger looking Ki Joon awkwardly chewing his nail as Gi Bbeum creeps playfully up behind him.  But instead of telling Gi Bbeum he loves her, Ki Joon fouls up the line and says he “persons her.”  At that the director cries cut in exasperation…apparently this isn’t the first time.

Back in the present, Gi Bbeum really does remember him, which delights Ki Joon no end.  Ki Joon notices her bag of clothes, and Gi Bbeum admits “some weirdo” bought them and then didn’t want them.  She figures that she seems pathetic for bringing the clothes back.  But Ki Joon assures her she is just thrifty.  Gi Bbeum says she isn’t sure what to do with the clothes, at which Ki Joon beams.  He has the perfect idea.

Cut to Gi Bbeum and Ki Joon driving up to a street full of homeless people.  Moments later the people dance in joy as they wear Gi Bbeum’s new clothes and the givers give eachother a high five.

Back in his study, Ma Sung is again trying to write in his journal.  But he can’t stop thinking about Gi Bbeum.  He reaches a hand up to feel his heartbeat.  “That woman has a way of making people feel uncomfortable,” he notes.

Moments later we see Ma Sung sitting in his car.  Strangely, He is wearing sunglasses even though it is night.  He reacts as a car’s headlights pass in front of his car.  “What am I doing?!”  He asks himself, but ends up driving anyway.

On the road in front of Gi Bbeum’s home, she and Ki Joon are saying their goodbyes after their fun afternoon.  After she leaves, Ki Joon does a happy dance.  He could not be happier to have been with his idol.  “I’ll make you big again.”  He quietly promises.

Before Gi Bbeum can reach her house, though, Ma Sung arrives at the door.  He walks into the front yard  and heads up to the curtain door.  But before he can know Sa Rang screams “It’s a thief!” at the top of her lungs.  Ma Sung is confused and laughs that she thought he looked like a thief.  But cocky Sa Rang insists he did and tells him to get lost before walking around him to go inside.

Just then Gi Bbeum’s dad comes up drunk as ever and accuses him of eating the ramyun from the bowl in his hand.  Ma Sung assures him he did not eat the ramyun.  Dad decides to believe him and let him “pass.”  By now Ma Sung is very confused and turns to leave, but Dad calls him back for a lecture on the dispossal of cigarette butts.  (Bwahaha!)  When Ma Sung assures him that he doesn’t smoke, Dad again agrees to let him “pass.”  Again Ma Sung turns to go and again Dad calls him back to ask if he knows how much government spending is wasted on trash people don’t sort properly.

Before Dad can “pass” him again, Gi Bbeum comes up and sends Dad inside.

After seeing Dad is safely inside, Gi Bbeum turns to ask Ma Sung what he is doing there.  Ma Sung doesn’t answer though, and instead questions her about who the people are that he just met.  Gi Bbeum answers him but then demands how he found her.  He tells her that he found the address on her website.

But Gi Bbeum flatly responds that she never put her home address on her website.  Skirting the issue, Ma Sung tells her he came for the clothes he bought.  Gi Bbeum tells him that she doesn’t have them anymore, which Ma Sung assumes means she sold them again.  He marvels at her amazing survival skills.  But he isn’t mad.  If she doesn’t have his clothes, he will accept a few minutes to talk with her instead.  (Awkward lover boy is adorable.)

Gi Bbeum refuses to talk to him for even two minutes.  Ma Sung feels very put out by this and scolds her for not even talking to him when he has gone through so much hardship to come here.

“Why should I have to waste my precious time on you?”  Gi Bbeum snaps back.  “I can’t even spare one second.  I don’t want to.”  (You tell him, girl!)

Ma Sung is flabbergasted and wonders at her confidence in ignoring him, especially considering the position she is in.  Gi Bbeum assures him that confidence does not come from the environment, but the heart.

“So this is why people hate you so much.”  Ma Sung softly observes.  “Because of your unwarranted confidence.”  (Too far, Ma Sung.  Don’t you dare hurt our tender girl.)  He notes her many anti-fans, finally deciding there is no way he would have aquainted himself with someone like her.

He leaves, but Gi Bbeum follows pounding after him and throws the bag she was holding hard against his back.

“What are you doing?” He asks her.

“I’d like to ask you the same thing.  What are you doing?”  She snaps back.  “Why?  Are you angry?  Hurt?  Like me, do you feel it is unfair?  Evil jerk.”  Ma Sung sputters at this, but she continues, “Why didn’t you show up that day?”  By now she has Ma Sung’s full attention.  “You even kissed me,” she tells him.

Ma Sung is astounded and repeats, “I kissed you?”  But Gi Bbeum assumes that he can’t remember because he doesn’t want to.  Ma Sung begs her to be more specific, but Gi Bbeum angrily tells him she shouldn’t have to remind him.

“It’s because,” he tells her sadly, “I can’t remember that I’m asking.”  But Gi Bbeum misunderstands believing he is a playboy.  She firmly warns him never to fall in love and hurt someone with his memory again.  She adds for him to never acknowledge her again, even if they see eachother.

“Is this how we broke up?”  He asks her quietly.  “Did you try to push me away while I tried to stop you?  Well, now it is time for you to decide.”

“Decide what?” She huffs back.

“Whether it would be okay for me to remember you tomorrow.  Or if I should erase you.”

At this Gi Bbeum breathes in sharply.  Her eyes drift down to the tattoo of the memory flower on Ma Sung’s hand.  “Don’t remember.”  She tells him and walks away.

Ma Sung nods his head, but his eyes follow her sadly as she goes up the stairs back home.

My Thoughts:

Although I am still in love with this show, Ma Sung’s personality change has really been for the worse.  It feels like his dementia has affected every part of his character and caused him to be rigid and rough — like every other snotty kdrama chaebal.  I am really ready for Devilish Joy to return my happy puppy.

Also, the way he interacts with Gi Bbeum is strange.  I get that he is self-concious about his inability to remember and has gone to great lengths to keep it from being noticeable, but come on!  EXPLAIN IT TO HER!  She has no idea that he can’t remember her so she completely misunderstands everything he says to her.  If he really thinks that she has this deep connection to him he might want to rethink his way of treating her.  Does he expect her to want to know him after he harrasses her and tells her she isn’t worth remembering?

Ki Joon on the other hand is entirely adorable.  I love how he manages to find the greatest joy at the smallest thing, like when Gi Bbeum remembered his name.  And I don’t even mind how obsessed he is with her, although it does border on stalking, because he is more of a daddy long legs than a full on stalker.  Seriously, this kid has a heart of gold.

The exact opposite is Ma Sung’s aunt.  This woman is giving me chills in the biggest way.  The way that she secretly watches and controls every part of her son and Ma Sung’s life feels so wrong.  And seriously, why is Ma Sung’s doctor even telling her everything she asks?  What happened to doctor/patient confidentiality?  Ugh.

But it is interesting to me that all of our characters in one way or another tie into a theme of protectiveness in this drama.  Ma Sung’s aunt showed it by being overprotective of her boys; Ki Joon showed it through his obsession with restoring his “first love” to her former glory; Gi Bbeum’s friend and family had it constantly; and Ma Sung showed it most of all in the first episode when he was drawn to Gi Bbeum because she needed rescuing from the gang of thugs.  If she hadn’t need him he might never have been attracted at all.  And then we saw it again when he saved her from drowning and was oddly protective and sincere about promising never to leave her.

I wonder how much further the drama will take the protective theme.  It would be nice to see if they can tie it into Gi Bbeum’s relationship with Ma Sung more.  Maybe Gi Bbeum could use some of her bright spunk to protect Ma Sung from himself and others…especially that weirdly protective Aunt.

So what did you think of Episode 2 of Devilish Joy?  

Read More:

Recap: Devilish Joy Episode 1

  Recap: Devilish Joy Episode 2 Even though Ma Sung and Gi Bbeum have found each other again, things are not as easy the second time around.  

[carriejonesbooks]

When I was a kid at Bates College, I spent a lot of my time feeling like less. My family had been kind of poor after my step-father died. My nana would stand in line to get us big orange blocks of commodity cheese for the week to supplement our $30 grocery budget Every  week my mom would yell at her that we didn’t need that. She always took it.

My mom didn’t answer the phone because she was so afraid of credit card companies calling.  She’d make me do it and lie that she wasn’t there.

I still hate answering the phone, even the cell phone, even when it has caller ID.

Anyway, when I went to college I wanted to forget all that. I wanted to be an intellectual like everyone else. I wanted to have gone to private school in Manhattan or Conneticut, have a summer home in the Hamptons and clothes that weren’t from K-Mart, which was sort of the WalMart equivalent back then, but worse.

I got over all that because I knew it was pretty shallow. What I had a harder time getting over was class issues that had less to do with materialism and more to do with hatred and intellectual history.

In one of my directing classes, one of the sexier straight guys actually announced about Beckett, “People who are not wealthy don’t care about this. A truck driver doesn’t watch public television or listen to NPR. They don’t care, they’re too busy humping and eating and drinking.”

My dad was a truck driver. He watched public television. He listened to NPR. I didn’t want to think about him humping. He ate food. He didn’t drink. His parents had been prohibitionists.

In one of my playwrighting classes the professor announced, “The working people of this country don’t give a shit about nuclear power. They don’t give a shit about a man of color.”

When I was in elementary school my dad would bring him with him to protest the same nuclear power plant that my step dad was helping to build. He helped me try to get New Hampshire to recognize Martin Luther King Day and do a hundred other civil rights things. He cared.

And one of my college friends would love to say, “Carrie is too poor to be pro intellectual.”

He’s a minister now. That still doesn’t make what he said right.

And one of my female poetry teachers told me over and over again, her voice trilling up with her patrician accent, “Carrie, you have the potential to be a poet, but your voice is too raw, not refined, not artistic enough.”

My voice was poor. My cadence was public school. I was not from rich. Every sentence I spoke showed that.

They still do.

Those are just four of the incidents that made me both angry and intimidated and focused, but in the back of my head it just inflamed my self doubt. I could never be a poet because I wasn’t wealthy, private-school educated, my parents weren’t intellectuals. I could never move people with words because my words were too stark and my sentences too short. I would never fit in because I didn’t have the background that most of the other students had.

And then two things happened. I read Sherman Alexie, a not-wealthy Spokane and Coeur d’Alene who despite his issues with women, impacted me positively. Maybe because I never met him.

And I met Seamus Heaney in real life.

Seamus Heaney came to our college at the invitation of Robert Farnsworth, who was an awesome poet and professor. He met with students, he gave a reading and we all got to hang out with him at a reception.

“I can’t go,” I told my boyfriend at the time.

He bit into his pizza. He was always eating pizza. “Why not?”

“Because it’s Seamus Heaney,” I answered staring at the little bits of sausage on the pizza before I plucked them off.

“So?”

“Seamus Heaney!”

“So?”

I didn’t know how to explain. Seamus Heaney was THE poet, the Nobel Prize winner. He was Irish for God’s sake. Those people were gifted with words. They had so many amazing poets… Heaney, Yeats, Wilde, Clarke, Moore. I was from New Hampshire. We had Robert Frost but pretty much every New England state tried to claim him.

Heaney wrote things like:

“A hunger-striker’s father

stands in the graveyard dumb.

The police widow in veils

faints at the funeral home.

History says, Don’t hope

on this side of the grave.

But then, once in a lifetime

the longed for tidal wave

of justice can rise up,

and hope and history rhyme.”

You will regret it if you don’t go,” my boyfriend said. “I’m going to just be playing Leisure Suit Larry anyway.”

So, I went, as anxious as if I was going on stage myself. Heaney transfixed me with his amazing baritone and bear-like presence. And his words… Of course his words… And when I met him afterwards, I was terrified until he grabbed my hand in his and said, “So you are a poet?”

And I said, “No.”

And all he did was nod and say, “Oh, yes you are.”

But in his eyes was this knowing, this connection, and maybe it wasn’t really there. Maybe I just saw it because I wanted him to understand me, because I wanted someone to get who I was and who I wanted to be. Or maybe not?

I don’t know, but one second later my professor said, “Oh, yes she is. I told you about her. She is like you.”

And then one of them said something about growing up not wealthy and I can’t remember the exact words, but what I do remember is that I finally felt understood. Later, I looked up Seamus Heaney’s past, about how his dad was a farmer and neither of his parents were big on words really, not in the intellectual way that everyone in college seemed to be. I found out that he was like me a little bit not because he was a poet and I was trying so desperately hard to write just one decent poem, but because we were both human, that we both came from humble places, that we both looked in people’s eyes when we said hello.

And that was enough for me. That was enough for me to believe in myself.

Seamus Heaney performed a miracle when I met him. He made me believe that I could be whatever the hell I wanted to be and that it didn’t matter how hard I had to fight or work or not fit in. What mattered was that I wanted the miracle of being a writer, of metamorphosis from Carrie the poor neurotic kid from Bedford, New Hampshire into Carrie Jones, the neurotic best-selling author who lives on the coast of Maine.

He gave hope and miracles in his poems and in his person and I am so thankful for his existence and so sorry for the world’s loss.

“The main thing is to write

for the joy of it. Cultivate a work-lust

that imagines its haven like your hands at night

dreaming the sun in the sunspot of a breast.

You are fasted now, light-headed, dangerous.

Take off from here. And don’t be so earnest.”

  I wrote this post back in 2013 when Seamus Heaney died, but in one of my student packet’s this week, I referenced Heaney and then yesterday I saw this Liam Neeson video (randomly) where he was talking about Heaney, so… there you go. I’ve reposted it.

Here’s Seamus Heaney reading his own poem, “Blackberry Picking.”

  Do Good Wednesday

Scary, right?

People are fixing it.

You can help with poetry and kids. These images are from Get Lit’s website and Get Lit is making a difference.

“Get Lit was founded in 2006 after Diane Luby Lane created a one-woman show about the power of words and toured colleges with iconic Chicano poet Jimmy Santiago Baca. After the show closed, she couldn’t bear the thought of cutting off the work completely. She started teaching classic and spoken word poetry in two high schools, Fairfax and Walt Whitman. When the semester ended… the students wouldn’t leave. They insisted on meeting after school. The rest is history. Today, the curriculum has expanded to almost 100 schools, and the Get Lit Players are the most watched poets on the internet. Curriculum requests flow in from Mexico to New Zealand.”

Get Lit “uses poetry to increase literacy, empower youth, and inspire communities.”

Get Lit works – 98% of Get Lit Players go to college, and 70% get scholarships!

Here are Get Lit’s specific needs and how you can get involved.

  Writing News

Carrie’s  super excited about the upcoming TIME STOPPERS book coming out this August.

This middle grade fantasy series happens in Acadia National Park in Bar Harbor, Maine and it’s all about friendship and magic and kids saving their magical town.

An imaginative blend of fantasy, whimsy, and suspense, with a charming cast of underdog characters . . . This new fantasy series will entice younger fans of Harry Potter and Percy Jackson.” –  School Library Journal

  “Sticks the landing . . . The world building is engaging . . . between the decidedly wonderful residents and the terrifying monsters who plague them.” –  BCCB

  “Amid the magic, spells, adventure, and weirdness of this fantasy are embedded not-so-subtle life lessons about kindness, friendship, and cooperation.” –  Booklist

  “A wild and fresh take on fantasy with an intriguing cast of characters. Dangerous and scary and fun all rolled into one. In the words of Eva the dwarf, I freaking loved it!” –  Lisa McMann, New York Times bestselling author of The Unwanteds series

  “Effervescent, funny, and genuine.” –  Kirkus Reviews

It’s quirky. It’s awesome. It’s full of heart. You should go by the first two books now. 🙂

  Time Stoppers

Time Stopper Series

Time Stoppers Front and Back Covers – US versions

CARRIE’S BOOKS

For a complete round-up of Carrie’s 16-or-so books, check out her website. And if you like us, or our podcast, or just want to support a writer, please buy one of those books, or leave a review on a site like Amazon. Those reviews help. It’s all some weird marketing algorhthym from hell, basically.

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The Poet Who Saw Me – Wednesday Writing Wisdom When I was a kid at Bates College, I spent a lot of my time feeling like less.